The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching 1138801283, 9781138801288

Table of contents :
Cover
Title
Copyright
Contents
List of Figures
Acknowledgements
1 Introduction: The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching
PART I Regional Studies
2 Preaching and Jews in Late Antique and Visigothic Iberia
3 Sub Iudaica Infirmitate—‘Under the Jewish Weakness’: Jews in Medieval German Sermons
4 Preaching about an Absent Minority: Medieval Danish Sermons and Jews
PART II Preachers and Occasions
5 ‘Our Sister Is Little and Has No Breasts’: Mary and the Jews in the Sermons of Honorius Augustodunensis
6 The Anti-Jewish Sermons of John of Capistrano: Matters and Context
7 The Effects of Bernardino da Feltre’s Preaching on the Jews
8 Sermons on the Tenth Sunday after Holy Trinity: Another Occasion for Anti-Jewish Preaching
PART III Symbols and Images
9 Beauty and the Bestiary: Animals, Wonder, and Polemic in Medieval Ashkenaz
10 The Origin of a Medieval Anti-Jewish Stereotype: The Jews as Receivers of Stolen Goods (Twelfth to Thirteenth Centuries)
11 The Roles of Jews in the Florentine Sacre Rappresentazioni: Loyal Citizens, People to Be Converted, Enemies of the Faith
12 Mendicants and Jews in Florence
13 Preaching to the Jews in Early Modern Rome: Words and Images
Contributors
Index

Citation preview

The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching

This book explores the complexity of preaching as a phenomenon in the medieval Jewish-Christian encounter. This was not only an ‘encounter’ as physical meeting or confrontation (such as the forced attendance of Jews at Christian sermons that took place across Europe), but also an ‘imaginary’ or theological encounter in which Jews remained a figure from a distant constructed time and place who served only to underline and verify Christian teachings. Contributors also explore the Jewish response to Christian antiJewish preaching in their own preaching and religious instruction. Jonathan Adams is a reader and academy researcher for the Royal Swedish Academy of Letters, History and Antiquities in the Department of Scandinavian Languages, Uppsala University. Jussi Hanska is a lecturer in the Department of History at the University of Tampere.

Routledge Research in Medieval Studies

1 Agrarian Change and Crisis in Europe, 1200–1500 Edited by Harry Kitsikopoulos 2 Pluralism in the Middle Ages Ragnhild Johnsrud Zorgati 3 Theorizing Medieval Geopolitics War and World Order in the Age of the Crusades Andrew A. Latham 4 Divorce in Medieval England From One to Two Persons in Law Sara M. Butler 5 Medieval Islamic Historiography Remembering Rebellion Heather N. Keaney 6 The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching Edited by Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

Previous titles to appear in Routledge Research in Medieval Studies include: The Generation of Identity in Late Medieval Hagiography Speaking the Saint Gail Ashton Performing Virginity and Testing Chastity in the Middle Ages Kathleen Coyne Kelly Women Pilgrims in Late Medieval England Susan S. Morrison

The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching Edited by Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

First published 2015 by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 and by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2015 Taylor & Francis The right of the editors to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data The Jewish-Christian encounter in medieval preaching / edited by Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska. — First edition. p. cm. — (Routledge research in medieval studies ; 6) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Preaching—Europe—History—Middle Ages, 600–1500. 2. Demonology—Europe—History of doctrines—Middle Ages, 600–1500. 3. Sermons, Medieval—History and criticism. 4. Christianity and antisemitism—History. 5. Christianity and other religions—Judaism— History—600–1500. 6. Judaism—Relations—Christianity—History— 600–1500. 7. Europe—Church history—600–1500. I. Adams, Jonathan. II. Hanska, Jussi. BV4208.E85J49 2015 261.2'60940902—dc23 2014017166 ISBN: 978-1-138-80128-8 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-75037-8 (ebk) Typeset in Sabon by Apex CoVantage, LLC

Contents

List of Figures Acknowledgements 1 Introduction: The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching

vii ix

1

JONATHAN ADAMS AND JUSSI HANSKA

PART I Regional Studies 2 Preaching and Jews in Late Antique and Visigothic Iberia

23

RAÚL GONZÁLEZ SALINERO

3 Sub Iudaica Infirmitate—‘Under the Jewish Weakness’: Jews in Medieval German Sermons

59

REGINA D. SCHIEWER

4 Preaching about an Absent Minority: Medieval Danish Sermons and Jews

92

JONATHAN ADAMS

PART II Preachers and Occasions 5 ‘Our Sister Is Little and Has No Breasts’: Mary and the Jews in the Sermons of Honorius Augustodunensis KATI IHNAT

119

vi

Contents

6 The Anti-Jewish Sermons of John of Capistrano: Matters and Context

139

FILIPPO SEDDA

7 The Effects of Bernardino da Feltre’s Preaching on the Jews

170

MARIA GIUSEPPINA MUZZARELLI

8 Sermons on the Tenth Sunday after Holy Trinity: Another Occasion for Anti-Jewish Preaching

195

JUSSI HANSKA

PART III Symbols and Images 9 Beauty and the Bestiary: Animals, Wonder, and Polemic in Medieval Ashkenaz

215

DAVID I. SHYOVITZ

10 The Origin of a Medieval Anti-Jewish Stereotype: The Jews as Receivers of Stolen Goods (Twelfth to Thirteenth Centuries)

240

GIACOMO TODESCHINI

11 The Roles of Jews in the Florentine Sacre Rappresentazioni: Loyal Citizens, People to Be Converted, Enemies of the Faith

253

PIETRO DELCORNO

12 Mendicants and Jews in Florence

282

NIRIT BEN-ARYEH DEBBY

13 Preaching to the Jews in Early Modern Rome: Words and Images

296

MARTINE BOITEUX

Contributors Index

323 327

Figures

4.1 Jews crucify Jesus; Råsted Church, Jutland (c. 1200) 4.2 Longinus is painted as a Jew in oriental fashion with a beard and dressed in a kaftan; Jetsmark Church, northern Jutland (1474) 11.1 Frontispiece of the Rappresentazione della Regina Ester (Florence, 1558) 11.2 Frontispiece of the Rappresentazione d’uno miracolo del Corpo di Cristo (Florence, 1555) 11.3 Frontispiece of the Rappresentazione d’uno miracolo del Corpo di Cristo (Florence, 1555). Detail: the Jewish pawnshop and the desecration of the host 11.4 Three men drinking in an inn; Miracolo del Corpo di Cristo (Florence, 1555), fol. 2v 11.5 The Jew burned at the stake; Miracolo del Corpo di Cristo (Florence, 1555), fol. 5v 11.6 Frontispiece woodcut of the Festa di Agnolo hebreo (Florence, 1554) 11.7 Interior of a bank; Festa di Agnolo hebreo (Florence, 1554), fol. 4r 11.8 Frontispiece of the Rappresentazione di dua hebrei che si convertirono (Florence, c. 1495) 11.9 Frontispiece of the Rappresentazione di dua hebrei che si convertirono (Florence, c. 1495). Detail: the Jews before the king and their baptism. 12.1 Andrea da Firenze, Spanish Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence, general view 12.2 Andrea da Firenze, Spanish Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence, Via Veritatis 12.3 Andrea da Firenze, Spanish Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence, Via Veritatis. Detail: Peter Martyr.

107

107 276 276

277 278 278 279 280 280

281 284 285 285

viii

Figures

12.4 Andrea da Firenze, Spanish Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence, Via Veritatis. Detail: Thomas. 12.5 Andrea da Firenze, Spanish Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence, Via Veritatis. Detail: Thomas’s audience. 13.1 Durante Alberti, The Annunciation (1588), Church of Madonna dei Monti, Rome 13.2 Raphael, The Prophet Isaiah (1511–12), Basilica di Sant’Agostino, Rome 13.3 Caravaggio, Saint Matthew and the Angel (1602), first draft, original destroyed

286 287 303 304 306

Acknowledgements

We would like to thank Tieteellisten Seurain Valtuuskunta for funding the conference in Rome that provided the initial impetus to publish this volume, and Institutum Romanum Finlandiae and its director, Katariina Mustakallio, for providing the venue. The Centro Romano di Studi sull’Ebraismo coorganized the event, and special thanks go to Francesco Scorza-Barcellona, Myriam Silvera, and Anna Foa for their invaluable help in putting together the programme. Our institutions—Uppsala University (Sweden) and the University of Tampere (Finland)—have been helpful and supportive in numerous ways. The Knut and Alice Wallenberg Foundation paid for some of the costs incurred during the editing of this volume. Part of the spadework leading up to the publication was carried out while Jonathan was a visiting fellow at the Humanities Research Centre, RSHA, Australian National University (2013). He would like to thank them for their generosity. For technical and academic advice, we would particularly like to thank Suzanne Paul (Department of Manuscripts and University Archives, Cambridge University Library) for her tremendous help with translating numerous sections of Latin into English, her supportive collegiality, and her wise advice with various aspects of this publication. She has also been a wonderful friend to us both over the years. Many thanks go to Anne Thayer (Lancaster Theological Seminary) for useful advice and feedback on sections of this volume. Michael Ryan (Québec) provided his services to assist us with translating and editing one of the articles, and David Shyovitz kindly offered advice on the section about Jewish preaching in the volume’s introduction. Any errors or shortcomings in these pages are, of course, entirely our own. We have very much enjoyed working with the contributors to this volume. Their patience with the editors and their enthusiasm have been particularly appreciated. We are truly grateful for their hard work and are delighted to be able to present these scholars’ innovative research on the following pages. Finally, we would like to thank Max Novick, commissioning editor at Routledge Research, for accepting the book for publication, and all his staff for their assistance. Jonathan Adams (Uppsala) and Jussi Hanska (Tampere)

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Introduction The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

This volume is the direct outcome of the conference ‘The Preaching on the Jews, for the Jews, and by the Jews’, held at the Finnish Institute in Rome in February 2011. Organized by Jussi Hanska, then serving as the vice-director of the Institute, this conference aimed at bringing together scholars working on sermons about, to, and by Jews. The issue of the Jewish-Christian encounter in medieval preaching can be studied from a wide variety of viewpoints and scholarly fields—for example, theology (both popular and authoritative), social history, literary studies, art history, Jewish studies, the history of antisemitism, and, of course, medieval sermon studies—that otherwise only rarely come together at the same conference or in a single publication. The conference explored preaching as a means of mass communication by which attitudes and stereotypes concerning the Jews were disseminated to the population at large and by which Jews were often meant to be converted. Furthermore, it explored the Jewish response to and the impact of Christian anti-Jewish preaching. Nine of the contributors to this publication presented at the conference, whereas the chapters by Regina Schiewer, Kati Ihnat, and Raúl González Salinero were commissioned especially for this volume in order to provide an even broader geographical and chronological coverage. Leslie Arnovick (University of British Columbia, Vancouver), Luca Baraldi (La Scuola Internazionale di Alti Studi ‘Scienze della cultura’, Modena), and Myriam Silvera (Università degli Studi di Roma ‘La Sapienza’, Rome) also gave papers at the conference, but they have either published their essays elsewhere or unfortunately had to decline the offer to have them included in this volume.1 The Jewish-Christian Encounter in Medieval Preaching aims to provide the reader with the possibility to appreciate and understand the complexity of preaching as a phenomenon in the Jewish-Christian encounter. By ‘encounter’ we mean not only a physical meeting or confrontation, such as the forced attendance of Jews at Christian sermons that took place across Europe, but also an ‘imaginary’ or theological encounter in which Jews—at least as far as some medieval Christian preachers were concerned—remained a figure from a distant constructed time and place who served only to underline and verify Christian teachings.

2

Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

As preaching in Jewish-Christian relations is still a relatively little-studied field (see below), there follows a brief introduction to medieval Christian and Jewish preaching and the scholarly discipline of sermon studies, as well as an outline of some of the key issues in Jewish-Christian relations in the Middle Ages and the use of preaching as an expression of these issues. MEDIEVAL PREACHING: CHRISTIAN It can be argued that the sermon represented the most important literary genre during the Middle Ages. For centuries, it formed the principal means for the clergy to convey aspects of religious education to their lay audiences, and together with church art and theatre, preaching was the mass medium par excellence of the medieval period. At the Fourth Lateran Council (1215), it was decided that the laity be properly instructed about sacramental obligations and sins through the medium of qualified and frequent preaching.2 Preachers sought to teach them fundamental Christian doctrine as expressed in the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostles’ Creed, the Ten Commandments, the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Virtues, the Seven Sacraments, the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit, and the Seven Works of Mercy. The illiterate populace was thus provided with fundamental religious instruction and inculcated with the societal norms of medieval Christianity.3 Sermons come in a great variety of shapes and sizes. The oldest type of Christian sermon is the homily, which is a commentary—word by word, line by line—of a section of Scripture. It aims to explain the text’s literal or historical meaning and to develop its non-literal meaning through allegory (drawing connections between the life of Christ or the New Testament and the Old Testament), tropology (uncovering the moral meaning of the text), and anagoge (providing the spiritual meaning of the text, often by alluding to the afterlife). Its style is usually expository rather than hortatory or moral, and such sermons, which were in use throughout the Middle Ages, often do not have easily identifiable sections, such as an introduction, divisions, or a conclusion. For the purpose of providing an example and introducing relevant terminology we might look at another type, the so-called thematic sermon, a common form of sermon during the late medieval period. These sermons had a clearly defined structure.4 Thematic sermons begin with a biblical quotation (thema), usually the day’s reading (pericope) from the Gospels or less frequently the Epistles quoted in Latin. This means that we are often able to identify on which day (occasio) in the liturgical calendar a particular sermon was preached. If the sermon is in the vernacular, the thema is sometimes translated, and there may be some further introductory remarks (introductio). The thema is subsequently discussed by the preacher in the expositio, which is divided into smaller parts (divisiones thematis), usually numbering three but sometimes many more. Each division begins with a sentence (propositio), stating an

Introduction

3

important lesson to be learned from the thema, that is supported by the use of an authority (concordantia auctoritatum; e.g., a biblical or patristic quotation). Following the main body of the sermon, there is usually a repetition of the thema (repetitio thematis) and/or of the message of the sermon. The sermon then concludes with a short doxology. Placed within these sermons, we often can find instructive tales (exempla) which reinforce the teaching of the sermon by using a concrete and memorable illustration.5 When preparing their sermons, preachers could find support and inspiration in preaching handbooks (artes praedicandi), model sermon collections (e.g., the popular Sermones moralissimi de tempore by Nicolaus de Aquaevilla), and collections of saints’ lives and miracle stories (the most famous and widespread without doubt was Jacob of Varazze’s collection of hagiographies from c. 1260, known as the Legenda Aurea or Golden Legend). The surviving corpus of medieval sermons exists in a wide variety of different forms. These include reportationes, the notes taken by scribes during the oral delivery of a sermon.6 They usually provide the gist of the sermon (its thema) and its principal divisiones, but leave out details such as the concordantiae auctoritatum, exempla, and references to local or current affairs. Many of the extant complete sermon texts are revisions made from these reportationes that were then distributed in authorized and unauthorized versions. Thus, a single oral sermon could result in various written versions.7 The vast majority of written sermons are in Latin, the lingua franca of learned clerics in medieval western Europe. However, that does not of course mean that they were actually preached in Latin. As a general rule, it would seem that sermons preached to a clerical audience were in Latin, whereas those addressed to lay audiences were in the vernacular (even though the reportationes and subsequent written versions of such sermons are recorded in Latin).8 Model sermon collections provided an important tool for less-experienced preachers, and particularly after the foundation of the Dominican and Franciscan Orders at the beginning of the thirteenth century they became widespread across Europe.9 Today they exist in thousands of manuscripts and numerous incunabula and early printed editions written in Latin and the vernacular. The collections are usually arranged systematically as sermon cycles that follow the order of the liturgical year. The cycles can be divided into two groups: De tempore (sermons for the Sundays of the year, from the First Sunday of Advent to the Last Sunday after Trinity) and De sanctis cycles (sermons for the feasts of the saints). There are also shorter De tempore collections for specific times of the year, such as Lent. These collections provided models for preachers to use in their own preaching, and they could be either read or recited word for word or adapted to suit the preacher’s requirements.10 It should also be noted that some of the sermons we have today were never actually heard by an audience. Instead, these sermons were transmitted through reading rather than preaching and were used as texts for contemplation.11

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Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

MEDIEVAL PREACHING: JEWISH Although having no clear status in Jewish law (halachah, ‫)הלכה‬,12 the position of the sermon as an important and ancient part of Jewish life is beyond question: The tradition of Jewish preaching goes back at least two thousand years.13 Practice varied from place to place and community to community, but in much of the medieval diaspora sermons were expected during morning services on the Sabbath, usually after—more rarely before—the liturgical reading of the day’s portions from the Torah (Pentateuch) and the Hafṭarah (Prophets). Another category of sermons were those held on the special Sabbaths—for example, those surrounding the important holiday of Rosh Hashanah (New Year) and before Pesach (Passover);14 these were important occasions for preaching, even in communities that did not have regular weekly sermons. The large concentration of holidays in the autumn—the forty days of repentance beginning in ’Elul, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot15—meant that this was a particularly busy time for preaching. However, holidays did not mark the only occasions for preaching. A third category of sermons were those delivered in connection with community or local events such as weddings, funerals,16 circumcisions, dedications of a new building or Torah scroll, the appointment of a new rabbi or local leader, or the outbreak of war, pestilence, or some other disaster.17 The language of the extant written sermons is Hebrew, but most researchers agree that unless the sermons were delivered to a group of scholars or by a preacher from far away, unable to speak the local language, sermons would have been preached in the vernacular, as in fact is confirmed in contemporaneous eyewitness accounts.18 Macaronic sermons19 mixing Hebrew and the vernacular begin to appear from the end of the sixteenth century, and sermons preserved entirely in the vernacular appear more frequently from the beginning of the seventeenth century. In spite of the frequency of preaching, there are very few extant written sermons available to us. The prohibition against writing on the Sabbath and some other holidays meant that scribes were forbidden to transcribe a preacher’s words while he was speaking. However, as there are no transcriptions of sermons held on days when writing was not prohibited either, it would seem that the lack of extant sermons is due to there being no institutional structure or hierarchy that made it important to record the words of a preacher.20 Furthermore, Jewish scribes were trained to write in Hebrew, not the vernacular, so it was perhaps too difficult, if not impossible, for them to write down the contents of a vernacular sermon in loco.21 We know the names of numerous important preachers, some of whom even talk about their preaching in their writings, but we have no written record of what they said. The vast majority of extant sermons were thus written by the preachers before or after the event, which of course means that they may only poorly reflect what the preacher actually said during his sermon.

Introduction

5

The sermon studies scholar Marc Saperstein has compared the preservation of medieval Jewish sermons with that of Christian ones thus: It has been estimated [. . .] that ten thousand [Christian] sermons given in the single province of Westphalia between 1378 and 1517 have been published—not counting those in manuscript. The number of Jewish sermons in print from all of Europe during this period, even if we define the genre as broadly as possible, would not reach 5 percent of that figure.22 Until the fifteenth century, the written sermon was on the whole meant to serve as a model that could be used in the future by the preacher or by those needing material for their own sermons.23 They are purely literary texts and do not have any direct connection with an audience (other than the preachers themselves). However, from the beginning of the fifteenth century, we do find sermons that are records of what the preacher said and that, instead of being intended as a model, preserve an actual act of oral communication, albeit in a revised and edited form. Medieval Jewish sermons begin with a biblical verse, which during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries was typically taken from Ketuvim or Proverbs. The preacher would offer different interpretations on his opening verse and then, at some late point in the sermon, relate it to the Torah reading (parashah, ‫ )פרשה‬for the day; this unexpected connection was intended to create a new understanding of the passage on the part of the congregation, who perhaps had until that point been puzzled by the relevance of the preacher’s chosen verse. Sermons from this period show a great variety of form, and some do not even touch upon the day’s parashah. The most common way that preachers organized these sermons was a verse-by-verse treatment of the biblical text. This format, called perishah (‫)פרישה‬, was much like the homily in Christian tradition. Each verse is discussed to highlight exegetical problems, which are elucidated and solved using rabbinic literature. The lessons to be learned from the selected verses and their ethical and religious benefit (to‛elet, ‫ )תועלת‬were underlined by the preacher, as were the difficult questions (sefeqot, ‫ספקות‬, ‘doubts’) and their proofs or solutions. Often these sorts of sermons can be conceptually diffuse with no substantive unity.24 From the second half of the fifteenth century, sermons begin with a biblical verse taken from the Torah. This verse (nośe’, ‫ )נושא‬was chosen by the preacher from within the parashah and acted much like the thema in a Christian sermon. It was followed by a passage of rabbinic homiletic exegesis (aggadah, ‫)אגדה‬, which in this context was called ma’amar (‫מאמר‬, ‘dictum’). After the ma’amar, the preacher would explore a particular theological or halachic problem (derush, ‫)דרוש‬. As this type of sermon focused on a derush, it was conceptually more unified than the perishah sermons. By exploring a nośe’ from the point of a particular problem, these sermons were not intended to show how different parts of the Bible were connected but

6

Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

rather to show how a single verse in the Torah could be interpreted in a multitude of ways. They tended to open with a rather formulaic introduction that provided the preacher’s and sermon’s backgrounds and formally stated that the sermon was being delivered with permission (a halachic requirement). This popular form of sermon, called derashah (‫)דרשה‬, was undoubtedly influenced by Christian preaching.25 From the seventeenth century on, we find a third type of sermon that tends to wander through different subjects that are connected together through association. Such sermons thus have a rather poorly defined structure and come in all shapes and sizes. This linking or catenary style became very popular in the eighteenth century and in addition to exegetical questions dealt with social and ethical issues. Just as in the Christian tradition, we find collections of homiletic material that were to be used as an aid to preachers. For example, the ‘Jar of Flour’ (Kad ha-Qemaḥ, ‫ )כד הקמח‬by Baḥya ben Asher of Saragossa (fl. c. 1300) was an alphabetized collection of biblical and rabbinic statements on different subjects that could be used by preachers preparing sermons.26 A fifteenth-century Spanish ‘Treatise for the Guidance of Preachers’ (Seder le-Heishir ha-Darshanim, ‫)סדר להישיר הדרשנים‬, which contains a set of instructions for preachers on the art of preaching, has also been discovered. It is probably the earliest extant example of a Jewish parallel to the Christian artes praedicandi genre.27 Although medieval Jewish sermons do not provide a wealth of historical information—they focus primarily on exegesis and abstract intellectual problems—they do include biographical details about the role and position of preachers and about their audiences.28 They are also valuable sources of information about the use of aggadah, halachah, philosophy, and kabbalah in teaching law and ethics to the masses.29 Those sermons that do respond to a specific historical event, such as the Black Death, war, or pogroms, give us a rare and immediate insight into how someone involved understood the event and saw best to act and advise his congregation.30 Although criticizing Christianity in sermons is extremely rare—it would of course have been very dangerous to do so—implied polemic can be detected in the constant reassertion of the central doctrines of Judaism, particularly those that were attacked by Christian polemicists.31 SERMON STUDIES Beginning in the nineteenth century, there is a long history of research on medieval preaching, but only in the last few decades has ‘sermon studies’ become a discipline in its own right.32 Due to the vast amount of source material, much work in the field continues to revolve around identifying, locating, cataloguing, and editing preaching material. This has resulted in various inventories (repertoria),33 studies of preaching handbooks (artes

Introduction

7

praedicandi),34 and indexes and collections of exempla.35 This type of work is extremely important as it opens up the daunting corpus of sermon literature to investigation, enabling scholars to pursue sermons related to specific persons, Orders, or feast days. Furthermore, sermons can be a fruitful source of information in interdisciplinary studies that investigate the interchange between scholarly and popular theology, or aim to uncover aspects of social, religious, and cultural history: politics; trade, finance, and commerce; church reform; religious devotion and beliefs; women and marriage; and, of course, the relationship between the Church and non-Christians.36 Studies on the relationship between the preacher and audience have become increasingly frequent.37 Of course, an important point to bear in mind when working with sermons as a historical source is that they are written records of an oral, performative act. They do not contain information about the preacher’s personality, appearance, expressions, gestures, pace, or rises in pitch and volume. Nor do they reveal the extent to which the preacher made use of the surrounding space during a sermon—for example, by pointing to relevant frescoes adorning the church walls.38 The study of Jewish preaching has a long history and goes back to Leopold Zunz, whose volume on the history of sermons is one of the great achievements of the Wissenschaft des Judentums movement.39 It was followed nearly a century later by Israel Bettan’s Studies in Jewish Preaching.40 More recently, there have been major advances in the study of Jewish preaching by such scholars as Joseph Dan, Mordechai Pachter, Jacob Elbaum, Joseph Hacker, Carmi Horowitz, and the leading modern scholar of Hebrew preaching, Marc Saperstein.41 However, in spite of the enormous achievements of these scholars for Jewish sermon studies, as well as the likes of Jonathan Berkey, Philip Halldén, Angelike Hartmann, Linda Jones, and Merlin Swartz for Muslim sermon studies,42 the discipline still remains centred upon western Christian preaching with little collaborative or comparative work. It is only to be hoped that this will change at some point in the future to incorporate the preaching of the eastern churches, as well as Jewish and Islamic sermons. JEWS AND CHRISTIANS IN MEDIEVAL EUROPE The history of Jewish-Christian relations in the Middle Ages spans the centuries from the Fall of the Roman Empire to the Renaissance in the fourteenth to sixteenth centuries (by Christian reckoning) or to the Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment) in the mid-eighteenth century (in Jewish tradition).43 In Christian western Europe—the focus of this book—these centuries were characterized by periods of long but insecure coexistence that were punctuated by explosive violence and persecution of the Jews. The position of the Jews in Christendom was defined by St Augustine, who gave them the role of testimonium veritatis, that is witness of the

8

Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

truth of Christianity.44 Thus, the Jews, for having carried the books of the Hebrew Bible (containing the prophecies concerning Jesus) and for having witnessed the Incarnation and Resurrection, were to be offered protection by the surrounding Christian society but be kept in a position of subjugation and humiliation for having rejected the Christians’ messiah. However, the extent to which Jews were tolerated depended very much on the political, economic, and social conditions in each particular country. Events such as the Crusades and the Black Death had dire consequences for Jewish communities across Europe. The massacres in 1096, inspired by Urban II’s call for the First Crusade and subsequent preaching on the enemies of God, led to the destruction of some of the Jewish communities in France, the Rhineland, and beyond.45 The outbreak of the Black Death, two and a half centuries later, resulted in violent attacks throughout Europe on Jewish communities, who were blamed for the plague.46 The Jews’ role as moneylenders—one of the few occupations permitted them—left them vulnerable both to public anger and to the whim of local leaders.47 From the twelfth century onwards, Jewish-Christian relations took an especially disturbing turn with the development of anti-Jewish libels: ritual murder, host desecration, well poisoning, cannibalism, necromancy, and communing with the devil. From the late twelfth century, Christian theologians began composing anti-Jewish polemics in a hitherto unseen quantity. These refutations explored the relationship between Christianity and Judaism, which in the thirteenth century developed into staged public disputations between Christian and Jewish scholars. Dominican and Franciscan friars began preaching vehemently anti-Jewish sermons, demanding that the Jews either be converted or be expelled.48 With the Christian ‘discovery’ of Jewish post-biblical writings and the Talmud (which was actually put on trial for blasphemy in 1240), there emerged a new image of the Jews as having strayed from ‘authentic’ (biblical) Judaism and having instead adopted a set of false, superstitious beliefs invented by the rabbis. This new view endangered their protection under the terms of Augustine’s definition. However, the Jews’ survival was here secured through their value to Christian society, not least in economic terms.49 PREACHING AND THE JEWS Studies on the role of preaching in the Jewish-Christian encounter are few. The most significant book in terms of debate concerning anti-Jewish preaching is without doubt Jeremy Cohen’s The Friars and the Jews.50 This book more than any other has set the significant terms of debate for preaching and the Jews in the Middle Ages, and its publication provided the impetus for further studies of sermons and preaching. He argues that from the establishment of the mendicant orders at the beginning of the thirteenth century, the Dominicans and Franciscans were in charge of the Church’s anti-Jewish activities in western Europe. He attempts to show that they are

Introduction

9

responsible for a shift away from the Augustinian tolerance of the continued existence of the Jews to a programme of conversion or banishment that focused on contemporary Jews and Judaism rather than the Jews of the Old and New Testaments. The situation for Jews deteriorated considerably as the friars disseminated their new ideology, based on attacks on the Talmud and allegations of blasphemy, through their preaching, teaching, and work as Inquisitors. There followed an increase in anti-Jewish violence with new accusations of hostility towards Christianity, such as the blood libel (rather than the older accusation of ritual murder), and the representation of Jews in art also became more demeaning—it is, for example, from this period we find the Judensau. Cohen’s alleged tendency to underplay socio-economic tensions underlying anti-Jewish persecutions by concentrating on mendicant dominance, as well as a failure to study and quantify the anti-Jewish elements in mendicant sermons,51 has led to some criticism of his work.52 Recently, Michael Hohlstein has tested Cohen’s thesis using Franciscan sermons from late medieval northern Italy to see whether the data shows that these sermons led to a programme of exclusion.53 He argues that the effect of preachers tended to be rather short-lived. Although anti-Jewish rioting was not uncommon after sermons, calls to prohibit Jewish moneylending were not heeded by local councils (or were soon rescinded once the preacher had moved on). Whenever Jewish moneylending was banned, it was done so for political and economic reasons rather than just because of the appeals of the Franciscan preachers. Similarly, Robin Vose has studied the missionary efforts of the Dominicans towards the Muslims and the Jews in the medieval Aragon. While he has not studied sermons as such, but rather documents concerning Dominican missionary literature and public debates with the Jews, he nevertheless provides us with a reasonably comprehensive picture of the Dominican attitudes towards the Jews. He concludes that the friars’ missionary efforts have often been interpreted from a maximalist perspective. In reality, at least in the Spanish context, there is precious little evidence of a Dominican dedication to the conversion of the Jews.54 Although these studies suggest that there was local variation in the efficacy of mendicant anti-Jewish preaching, Cohen’s book stands as an important milestone and point of reference, and it continues to influence and stimulate studies on preaching and the Jews. The collections edited by Steven McMichael and Susan Myers; Alexander Deeg, Walter Homolka, and Heinz-Günther Schöttler; and Katherine Jansen and Miri Rubin are also extremely useful and provide a range of studies of anti-Jewish preaching in Europe.55 THIS VOLUME The volume is divided into three thematic sections, although due to the interdisciplinary nature of sermon studies, there is inevitably a degree of

10

Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

overlap between them. The chapters grouped in the first section under the title ‘Regional Studies’ look at Christian preaching and the Jews in three different regions and periods. Opening the volume, the chapter by Raúl González Salinero examines preaching about the Jews in Late Roman and Visigothic Iberia against a background of fear of Jewish contamination to which, the Church hierarchy maintained, Christian communities were exposed. As it was almost impossible to convert Jews to the Catholic faith, Spanish bishops tried instead to establish a clear separation between both communities through measures approved in local councils and, especially, through anti-Jewish preaching. Sermons were exclusively directed at the Christian community with the goal of reaffirming faith and educating believers in Christian doctrine. Moving further north, Regina Schiewer investigates Jews in medieval vernacular German sermons. By looking at three collections from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, Schiewer shows that pericopal sermons and sermons ad populum in particular contain numerous allusions to Jews, focusing on their disbelief and their role in the suffering and death of Jesus. Differences in preachers’ attitudes to the Jews are also investigated, and the author shows how preachers with a pronounced interest in mysticism focused less on prevailing anti-Jewish stereotypes. However, as a group of sermons from Basle shows, the physical absence of Jews does not mean that Jews are absent from sermons. This theme is taken up in the next chapter, in which Jonathan Adams looks at the portrayal of Jews in late fifteenth- and early sixteenth-century vernacular sermons from Denmark, a country that at the time was without any resident Jewish community. By considering sermons for Good Friday and Passion Sunday, Adams shows how preachers used a constructed view of New Testament Jews to castigate their audiences and draw them to a Christian life of moral obedience. The second section, ‘Preachers and Occasions’, focuses on three different personalities from the twelfth to the fifteenth century and on a specific occasion for anti-Jewish preaching. In her chapter, Kati Ihnat considers the Marian sermons of Honorius Augustodunensis (fl. c. 1097–150) and what they can tell us about monastic engagement with ideas about Judaism in Anglo-Norman England. Ihnat explores the portrayal of Jews in Honorius’ sermons in the context of monastic reform and rising Marian devotion in twelfth-century England, illustrating how his interest in pastoral care led him to develop novel approaches to understanding and communicating the place of Judaism in the Christian world view. In the next chapter, Filippo Sedda investigates the largely unpublished anti-Jewish sermons of the Franciscan friar John of Capistrano (1384–1456). Usury, heresy, and blasphemy make up the most prominent stereotypes that the preacher used in his sermons against the Jews. In his conversionary sermons directed to the Jews, John of Capistrano focused on the messiahship of Jesus Christ, using philological and exegetical arguments against the text of the Hebrew Bible. The next chapter, by Maria Giuseppina Muzzarelli, investigates the consequences of Bernardino da Feltre’s preaching about the Jews. Bernardino da Feltre

Introduction

11

(1439–94) spoke frequently about Jews, and his biography by Bernardino Guslino is full of references to them—approximately 25% of the edition’s pages talk about the Jews. The preacher attacked trust in Jewish doctors and impeded collaboration between Christians and non-Christians in the field of medicine. However, his greatest impact was in the area of credit and financing, condemning usury to support the foundation of Monti di pietà. The final chapter in this section, by Jussi Hanska, investigates the extent to which ‘a mental calendar of medieval preaching’ meant that anti-Jewish preaching came up on certain Sundays, year in and year out. He looks at the extant Latin sermons for the Tenth Sunday after Holy Trinity; the Gospel pericope of this particular Sunday was Luke 19. 41–48, which refers to the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE. Hanska discovers that although this occasio was frequently used to condemn the Jews—indeed, it appears to be the second major occasion for anti-Jewish preaching after Passiontide—a number of sermons for this day avoid anti-Judaism either by choosing to interpret the Gospel text differently or by using the thema from the Epistle reading for the day instead. The third and final section, ‘Symbols and Images’, looks at the stereotypes, metaphors, and use of images in Jewish and Christian preaching. This section begins with a chapter by David Shyovitz, which explores the role of animals in the didactic and exhortatory writings of the Ḥasidei Ashkenaz (German Pietists). It argues that the Ḥasidim marshalled marvellous and mundane creatures alike for spiritual ends, in an approach that paralleled, and drew on, contemporaneous Christian theological developments. The chapter examines the means by which such ideas were shared between the two neighbouring communities, and points to polemical preaching as a conduit through which Jews and Christians learned about one another’s beliefs, traditions, and world views. In the next chapter, Giacomo Todeschini traces the stereotype of Jews as fences from the time of its creation by Peter the Venerable in the first half of the twelfth century. The image seems to be more than an isolated polemic against Jews, and indeed, can be seen as the beginning of a codification that transformed the ancient story of Judas and the Jews into a modern story with Jews as allies of heretics and simoniacs. Todeschini focuses on how the figure of Judas Iscariot was gradually shaped in the Christian West in order to understand how the process happened. The next chapter, by Pietro Delcorno, looks at the fifteenth-century Florentine religious plays, sacre rappresentazioni, as a way of preaching in the form of theatre, and he investigates the characteristics of the Jews represented in these dramas. Two elements are highlighted: the plurality of roles for Jews in these plays and the connection between the staged stories and contemporary Florentine history. The chapter detects three profiles of Jews: Jews as loyal citizens who were faithful to the political authority; Jews as dangerous enemies of the Christian faith, and Jews as individuals who could be converted—in other words, Jews as potential new Christians. Moreover, their presence in these dramas could be instrumental in treating other

12

Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska

themes, such as political or economic power. Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby’s chapter analyzes the perceptions of the Jews by the mendicant friars in early modern Florence and focuses on the encounter between the Christian and Jewish worlds as it appears in Florentine churches in the oral and visual traditions. The chapter examines the representations of Jews in Italian urban society from the fifteenth to the seventeenth century by studying mendicant preaching and art. The chapter describes how the wealth of imagery in churches and cathedrals—statues, stained-glass windows, frescoes, and altar pictures—made a powerful impact on the illiterate beyond the context of preaching and were a major tool of propaganda in Christian polemics against the Jews. The final chapter in the volume, by Martine Boiteux, brings us into the early modern period (or late medieval period by Jewish reckoning) and shows how the slow history of mentalities investigated in this volume continued well into the eighteenth century.56 The author investigates the history of compulsory preaching to the Jews in Rome, a community that was marginalized but, as Boiteux shows, was not passive. The preachers were learned men who were often converted Jews, and they made use of words and images in their work against the Jews. The study highlights the importance of images and discusses how effective—or rather, ineffective—compulsory preaching, which was not abolished in Rome until 1847, actually was. Together the chapters in this volume show the longevity of anti-Jewish preaching—from late Antiquity to the early modern period—and its ubiquity in all parts of western Europe. Areas with no resident Jewish populations were not spared preaching on the Jews. The role of the Jews in the New Testament and their continued existence posed fundamental and universal questions for the Church everywhere. Their unique role in the founding texts of Christianity and the self-definition of the Church meant that Jews could not be ignored by preachers, even in areas with no Jewish populations. In places where Jews were present, the sermons mention contemporary as well as biblical Jews and often focus more on the supposed dangers of associating with Jews. Many of the anti-Jewish stereotypes in sermons have long histories, although they remained malleable enough that they could be recycled and reshaped as and when preachers saw fit. The level and type of preaching about Jews were very dependent on local political and economic factors, as well as on what was circulating in model sermon collections at the time. The success of anti-Jewish preaching in the area of financial reform and moneylending was entirely dependent on the support of local authorities. Another area addressed in this volume is the interplay between preaching, art, and religious drama. In order to be able to appreciate the JewishChristian encounter in medieval preaching it is important to consider the preaching venue with its artwork (if in a church) or its publicness and accessibility (if outside). Just as art could corroborate or supplement the message of a sermon, so too could religious drama.

Introduction

13

Finally, the volume looks at an important area that would benefit from further research: the (often subtle) response in Jewish sermons to Christian attacks on Judaism. It is clear that Christianity and Christian texts influenced both the form and content of Jewish preaching, just as (perceived) Jewish criticisms of Christian doctrine shaped the content of Christian preaching. The editors hope that this volume can contribute to and help spark further scholarship on both this and the other issues raised in the chapters that follow. NOTES 1. A conference report is available in Medieval Sermon Studies, 55 (2011), 9–10. 2. See especially canon 10 of the Council: Conciliorum oecumenicorum decreta, ed. by Joseph Alberigo and others (Basle: Herder, 1962), pp. 215–16. 3. Joan Young Gregg, Devils, Women, and Jews: Reflections on the Other in Medieval Sermon Stories, SUNY Series in Medieval Studies (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997), p. 3, and Leonard Eugene Boyle O.P., ‘The Fourth Lateran Council and Manuals of Popular Theology’, in The Popular Literature of Medieval England, ed. by Thomas Hefferman (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1988), pp. 30–43. 4. See Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons’, Leeds Studies in English, New Series, 11 (1980), 19–35, and reprinted as chapter 1 in Louis-Jacques Bataillon, La prédication au XIIIe siècle en France et Italie. Etudes et documents, ed. by David d’Avray and Nicole Bériou (Aldershot: Variorum, 1993). See also Woodburn O. Ross, Middle English Sermons, Early English Text Society, 209 (London: Oxford University Press, 1940), pp. xliii–lv. 5. On exempla, see Claude Bremont and Jacques Le Goff, L’Exemplum, Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental (Turnhout: Brepols, 1982); Markus Schürer, Das Exemplum oder die erzählte Institution. Studien zum Beispielgebrauch bei den Dominikanern und Franziskanern des 13. Jahrhunderts, Vita regularis, Abhandlungen, 23 (Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2005); and Marie Anne Polo de Beaulieu, Pascal Collomb, and Jacques Berlioz, Le tonnerre des exemples. Exempla et médiation culturelle dans l’Occident médiéval, Actes de trois colloques, Histoire (Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2010). 6. For a study of reportationes, see Nicole Bériou, L’avènement des maîtres de la parole: La prédication à Paris au XIIIe siècle, Moyen Âge et Temps modernes, 31 (Paris: Institut d’Études Augustiniennes, 1998). See also Carlo Delcorno, ‘Medieval Preaching in Italy (1200–1500)’, in The Sermon, ed. by Beverly M. Kienzle, Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental, 81–83 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), pp. 449–559 (pp. 497–511). 7. See Nicole Bériou, ‘La réportation des sermons parisiens à la fin du XIIIe siècle’, Medioevo e Rinascimento, 3 (1989), 87–123. 8. Lecoy de la Marche, La chaire française au moyen âge, spécialement au XIIIe siècle d’après les manuscrits contemporains, 2nd edn (Paris: Renouard, 1886), pp. 259–66, and Beverly Kienzle, ‘The Twelfth-Century Monastic Sermon’, in Kienzle, The Sermon, pp. 271–323 (p. 287). 9. David d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars: Sermons Diffused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985), passim, and Carlo Delcorno, ‘Medieval Preaching in Italy’, pp. 501–11. 10. The term ‘model sermon collection’ has, however, recently been questioned by Siegfried Wenzel, who has argued ‘any sermon that got written down could,

14

11. 12. 13. 14.

15.

16.

17. 18. 19.

20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25.

Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska and probably was intended to, function as a model to be used by the preachers’. This view is not universally accepted, however. Siegfried Wenzel, Latin Sermon Collections from Later Medieval England: Orthodox Preaching in the Age of Wyclif, Cambridge Studies in Medieval Literature (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 3. See the study by Regina Schiewer, ‘Sermons for Nuns of the Dominican Observance Movement’, Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed. by Carolyn Muessig (Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 75–92. The structure and content of sermons, the qualifications of the preacher, and the place where preaching should be undertaken are not discussed in the Talmud. Marc Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, in The Sermon, ed. by Beverly Mayne Kienzle, Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental, 81–83 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), pp. 175–201 (p. 175). On preaching for Shabbat Shuvah (the Sabbath after the Jewish New Year), see Marc Saperstein, ‘Your Voice Like a Ram’s Horn’: Themes and Texts in Traditional Jewish Preaching (Cincinnati: Hebrew University College Press, 1996), pp. 293–365; on preaching for Pesach, see Saperstein, ‘Your Voice Like a Ram’s Horn’, pp. 11–22, and Shaul Regev, ‘Derashot le-Hagadah shel Pesaḥ, la-Mo’adim, ule-Shabatot: Sarid mi-Chetuv Yad le-Hacham Sefaradi Lo Noda’ [Sermon on the Passover Haggadah, the Sabbath and Festivals, a remnant of a manuscript written by an unknown Sephardi scholar], Asufot, 8 (1994), 227–40. The Jewish month of ’Elul (usually August–September) is a time of reflection and repentance in preparation for the High Holy Days (called Yamim Nora’im, ‫ימים נוראים‬, ‘Days of Awe’, in Hebrew) of Rosh Hashanah (New Year) and Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement). Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles) is a sevenday holiday that follows shortly after Yom Kippur. On the eulogy (hesped, ‫)הספד‬, see Saperstein, ‘Your Voice Like a Ram’s Horn’, pp. 367–484, and Elliott Horowitz, ‘Speaking of the Dead: The Emergence of the Eulogy among Italian Jewry of the Sixteenth Century’, in Preachers of the Italian Ghetto, ed. by David B. Ruderman (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992), 129–62. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, p. 181. Saperstein, Jewish Preaching, p. 39. For an alternative view, see Joseph Dan, Sifrut ha-Musad veha-Derush [Ethical and homiletic literature] (Jerusalem: Keter Yerushalayim, 1975), pp. 45–46. A macaronic text is one that uses a mixture of two or more languages, such as Hebrew or Latin with the vernacular. See, for example, Siegfried Wenzel, Macaronic Sermons: Bilingualism and Preaching in Late Medieval England (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1994). Marc Saperstein, Jewish Preaching, 1200–1800: An Anthology, Yale Judaica Series, 26 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), pp. 11–12. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, p. 187. Saperstein, Jewish Preaching, pp. 5–6. It should of course be borne in mind that there were far fewer Jews living in Europe than Christians. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, p. 181. See also David Ruderman, ‘An Exemplary Sermon from the Classroom of a Jewish Teacher in Renaissance Italy’, Italia, 1 (1978), 7–38. Saperstein, Jewish Preaching, p. 74. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, p. 183. On the influence of Christian homiletics on Jewish preaching, see Saperstein, ‘Medieval Jewish Preaching and Christian Homiletics’, in Preaching in Judaism and Christianity: Encounters and Developments from Biblical Times to Modernity, ed. by Alexander Deeg, Walter Homolka, and Heinz-Günther Schöttler, Studia Judaica:

Introduction

26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31.

32.

33.

34.

15

Forschungen zur Wissenschaft des Judentums, 41 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2008), pp. 73–88. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, p. 184. For an edition, see Baḥya ben Asher, Kitvei Rabenu Baḥya [The writings of our rabbi Baḥya], ed. by Ḥayyim Dov Chavel (Jerusalem: Kook, 1969). Saperstein, ‘Your Voice Like a Ram’s Horn’, pp. 163–78, and Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, p. 185. On the role of the preacher in rabbinic times, see Marc Bregman, ‘The Darshan: Preacher and Teacher of Talmudic Times’, The Melton Journal, 14 (1982), 3–48. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, pp. 194–97. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, pp. 198–99. Saperstein, ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, pp. 198. On Christians and Christianity in medieval Jewish preaching, see also Saperstein, ‘Your Voice Like a Ram’s Horn’, pp. 45–74, and Kenneth Stow, ‘Medieval Jews on Christianity’, Rivista di Storia del Cristianesimo, 1 (2007), 73–100. Criticizing Christians in any genre of Jewish literature was rare before the twelfth century. Anti-Christian polemics began in the latter half of the twelfth century and reached its peak in the thirteenth century. See David Berger, ‘The Jewish-Christian Debate in the High Middle Ages’, in Essential Papers on Judaism and Christianity in Conflict: From Late Antiquity to the Reformation, ed. by Jeremy Cohen (New York: New York University Press, 1991), pp. 487–94, and David Berger, Persecution, Polemic and Dialogue: Essays in Jewish-Christian Relations, Judaism and Jewish Life (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2010), passim. For a description of the current state of research, see Phyllis B. Roberts, ‘Sermon Studies Scholarship: The Last Thirty-Five Years’, Medieval Sermon Studies, 43 (1999), 9–18; Kienzle, The Sermon; Anne Thayer, ‘Medieval Sermon Studies since The Sermon: A Deepening and Broadening Field’, Medieval Sermon Studies, 58 (2014; forthcoming). A concise history of sermon studies is provided in Carolyn Muessig, ‘Sermon, Preacher and Society in the Middle Ages’, Journal of Medieval History, 28 (2002), 73–91. The repertorium of Latin sermons, to which medieval sermon studies owes much, is the Repertorium der lateinischen Sermones des Mittelalters für die Zeit von 1150–1350, ed. by Johannes B. Schneyer, Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters, 43, 5 vols (Münster: Aschendorffsche, 1969–90). In recent years several repertoria of vernacular sermons have been completed, including Veronica O’Mara and Suzanne Paul, A Repertorium of Middle English Prose Sermons, Sermo, 1, 4 vols (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), and Repertorium of Middle Dutch Sermons Preserved in Manuscripts from before 1550 / Repertorium van Middelnederlandse preken in handschriften tot en met 1550, ed. by Maria Sherwood-Smith, Patricia Stoop, Daniël Ermens, and Willemien van Dijk, Miscellanea Neerlandica, 29, 7 vols (Leuven: Peeters, 2003–08). There are currently ongoing projects in Germany and Italy to produce repertoria of vernacular sermons. On preaching handbooks, see Marianne Briscoe, Artes Praedicandi, Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental, 61 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1992). Some studies on and editions of handbooks include Richard H. Rouse and Mary A. Rouse, Preachers, Florilegia and Sermons: Studies on the ‘Manipulus florum’ of Thomas of Ireland, Studies and Texts, 47 (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1979); Fasciculus Morum: A Fourteenth-Century Preacher’s Handbook, ed. and trans. by Siegfried Wenzel (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1989); Mary E. O’Carroll, A Thirteenth-Century Preacher’s Handbook: Studies in MS Laud Misc. 511, Studies and Texts, 128 (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1997); and Thomas de Chobham, Summa de arte praedicandi, ed. by Franco Morenzoni, Corpus

16

35.

36.

37. 38.

39. 40. 41.

Jonathan Adams and Jussi Hanska Christianorum Continuatio Mediaevalis, 82 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2002). The following includes articles on how sermons were composed with the aid of artes praedicandi or model collections: Constructing the Medieval Sermon, ed. by Roger Andersson, Sermo, 6 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007). See, for example, Frederic Christian Tubach, Index Exemplorum: A Handbook of Medieval Religious Tales, FF Communications, 204 (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1969), and Collectio Exemplorum Cisterciensis in Codice Parisiensi 15912 Asseruata, ed. by Jacques Berlioz, Marie Anne Polo de Beaulieu, and others, Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Mediaevalis, 243 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2012). See also the online Thesaurus exemplorum medii aevi (THEMA) created by Jacques Berlioz, Marie Anne Polo de Beaulieu, and Pascal Collomb: [accessed 30 January 2014]. Some works that provide an insight into the sort of interdisciplinary research currently being undertaken include Speculum Sermonis: Interdisciplinary Reflections on the Medieval Sermon, ed. by Georgiana Donavin, Cary J. Nederman, and Richard Utz, Disputatio, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2004), and Maximilian Diesenberger, Yitzhak Hen, and Marianne Pollheimer, Sermo Doctorum: Compilers, Preachers, and Their Audiences in the Early Medieval West, Sermo, 9 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013). The journal of the International Medieval Sermon Studies Society, Medieval Sermon Studies, published by Maney, contains important articles and reviews from within the field. The Sermo series, published by Brepols, also offers a number of works that consider different approaches to preaching and the reception of sermons in the Middle Ages. See, for example, Preacher, Sermon and Audience in the Middle Ages, ed. by Carolyn Muessig (Leiden: Brill, 2002). Questions of performance and space are particularly addressed in Charisma and Religious Authority: Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Preaching 1200–1500, ed. by Katherine L. Jansen and Miri Rubin, Europa Sacra, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2010). See also Roberto Rusconi, ‘Anti-Jewish Preaching in the Fifteenth Century and Images of Preachers in Italian Renaissance Art’, in Friars and Jews in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, ed. by Steven J. McMichael and Susan E. Myers, The Medieval Franciscans, 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), pp. 225–37; Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, ‘War and Peace: The Description of Ambrogio Lorenzetti’s Frescoes in St. Bernardino Sermons in Siena 1425’, Renaissance Studies, 15: 3 (2001), 272–86; Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, The Renaissance Pulpit: Art and Preaching in Tuscany, 1400–1550, Late Medieval and Early Studies, 6 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007); and Debby’s chapter in this volume. Leopold Zunz, Die gottesdienstlichen Vorträge der Juden historisch entwickelt (Berlin: Asher, 1832). Israel Bettan, Studies in Jewish Preaching: Middle Ages, The Henry and Ida Krolik Memorial Publications, 1 (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1939). Dan, Sifrut ha-Musad veha-Derush; Mordechai Pachter, ‘Sifrut ha-derush veha-musar shel ḥachme Tsefat ba-me’ah ha-16 u-maʽarekhet raʽyonoteha ha-ʽiqariyim’ [Ethical and homiletic literature of the scholars of Safed in the sixteenth century and its major ideas] (PhD thesis, Hebrew University Jerusalem, 1976); Jacob Elbaum, ‘Shalosh Derashot Ashkenaziyot Qedumot mi-Q[etav] Y[ad] Beit ha-Sefarim’ [Three ancient Ashkenazi sermons from a manuscript library], Kiryat Sefer, 48 (1973), 340–47; Jacob Elbaum, ‘Sermon to Story: The Transformation of the Akedah’, Prooftexts, 6 (1986), 97–116; Jacob Elbaum, Petihut ve-histagrut: Ha-yetsirah ha-ruhanit-ha-sifrutit ˙ ˙ be-Polin uve-artsot Ashkenaz be-shilhe ha-me’ah ha-shesh-eśreh [Openness and seclusion: spiritual and literary creation in Poland and Germany

Introduction

17

in the late sixteenth century] (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1990); Joseph R. Hacker, ‘Ha-Derashah ha-“Sefardit” be-Me’ah ha-Ṭet Zayin—bein Sifrut le-Makor Hisṭori’ [The ‘Sephardi’ sermon in the sixteenth century: between literature and historical source], Peʽamim, 26 (1986), 108–27; Carmi Horowitz, The Jewish Sermon in 14th-Century Spain: The Derashot of R. Joshua ibn Shu’eib (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1989); and Carmi Horowitz, ‘Darshanim, Derashot and the Derashah Literature in Medieval Spain’, in Moreshet Sepharad: The Sephardi Legacy, ed. by Haim Beinart, 2 vols (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Magnes Press, 1992), I, 383–98. Among Saperstein’s many works the following are particularly useful: ‘The Sermon as Art Form: Structure in Morteira’s Giv’at Sha’ul’, Prooftexts, 3 (1982), 243–61; ‘Stories in Jewish Sermons (The 15th–16th Centuries)’, Proceedings of the Ninth World Congress of Jewish Studies, Jerusalem, August 4–12, 1985. Division C: Jewish Thought and Literature (Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies, 1986), pp. 10–108; Jewish Preaching, 1200–1800: An Anthology, Yale Judaica Series, 26 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980); ‘An Unknown Sermon on the Akedah from the Generation of the Expulsion and Its Implications for 1391’, in Exile and Diaspora, ed. by Aharon Mirsky and others (Jerusalem: Ben-Zvi Institute of Yad Izhak Ben-Zvi and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1991), pp. 103–24; ‘Saul Levi Morteira’s Eulogy for Menasseh Ben Israel’, in A Traditional Quest: Essays in Honour of Louis Jacobs, ed. by Dan Cohn-Sherbok (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), pp. 133–53; ‘Italian Jewish Preaching: An Overview’, in Preachers of the Italian Ghetto, ed. by David Ruderman (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992), pp. 22–40; ‘The Preaching of Repentance and the Reforms in Toledo of 1281’, in Models of Holiness in Medieval Preaching, ed. by Beverly Kienzle and others (Louvainla-Neuve: FIDEM, 1996), pp. 155–72; ‘Your Voice Like a Ram’s Horn’: Themes and Texts in Traditional Jewish Preaching (Cincinnati: Hebrew University College Press, 1996); ‘Homiletics’, in The Oxford Dictionary of the Jewish Religion, ed. by R. J. Zwi Werblowsky and Geoffrey Wigoder (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), pp. 334–35; ‘History as Homiletics: The Use of Historical Memory in the Sermons of Saul Levi Morteira’, in Jewish History and Jewish Memory: Essays in Honor of Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, ed. by Elisheva Carlebach, John M. Efron, and David Myers (Hanover, NH: Brandeis University Press, 1998), pp. 113–33; ‘Christianity, Christians and “New Christians” in the Sermons of Saul Levi Morteira’, Hebrew Union College Annual, 70–71 (1999–2000), 329–84; ‘The Medieval Jewish Sermon’, in The Sermon, ed. by Beverly Mayne Kienzle, Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental, 81–83 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), pp. 175–201; ‘The Rhetoric and Substance of Rebuke: Social and Religious Criticism in the Sermons of Hakham Saul Levi Morteira’, Studia Rosenthaliana, 34 (2000), 131–152; ‘Exile in Amsterdam: The Evidence in the Sermons of Saul Levi Morteira’, in Me’ah She‘arim: Studies in Medieval Jewish Spiritual Life in Memory of Isadore Twersky, ed. by Ezra Fleischer and others (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Magnes Press, 2001), pp. 208–49; ‘Sermons in Medieval and Early Modern Judaism’, in The Encyclopaedia of Judaism, ed. by Jacob Neusner, Alan J. Avery-Peck, and William Scott Green, 1– vols (Leiden: Brill, 1999–), IV (2003): Supplement 1, 1887–1904; ‘ “Ein Li ‘Eseq ba-Nistarot”: Saul Levi Morteira’s Sermons on Parashat Bereshit’, in Creation and Re-creation in Jewish Thought: Festschrift in Honor of Joseph Dan, ed. by Rachel Elior and Peter Schäfer (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), pp. 209–47; Exile in Amsterdam: Saul Levi Morteira’s Sermons to a Congregation of ‘New Jews’ (Cincinnati: Hebrew University College Press, 2005); ‘Medieval Jewish Preaching and Christian Homiletics’, in Preaching in Judaism and Christianity: Encounters and Developments from Biblical Times to Modernity, ed. by Alexander Deeg,

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Walter Homolka, and Heinz-Günther Schöttler, Studia Judaica: Forschungen zur Wissenschaft des Judentums, 41 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2008), pp. 73–88; ‘The Treatment of “Heretical” Views in the Sermons of Saul Levi Morteira of Amsterdam’, in Rabbinic Culture and Its Critics: Jewish Authority, Dissent, and Heresy in Medieval and Early Modern Times, ed. by Daniel Frank and Matt Goldish (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 2008), pp. 313–34; ‘Attempts to Control the Pulpit: Medieval Judaism and Beyond’, in Charisma and Religious Authority, pp. 93–103; ‘Sermons and History: The “Marrano” Connection to Kol Nidre’, in All These Vows: Kol Nidre, ed. by Lawrence A. Hoffman (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights, 2011), pp. 31–38. 42. Jonathan P. Berkey, Popular Preaching and Religious Authority in the Medieval Islamic Near East (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2001); Jonathan P. Berkey, ‘Audience and Authority in Medieval Islam: The Case of Popular Preachers’, in Charisma and Religious Authority, pp. 105–20; Philip Halldén, ‘What Is Arab Islamic Rhetoric? Rethinking the History of Muslim Oratory Art and Homiletic’, International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies, 37 (2005), 19–38; Angelike Hartmann, ‘La prédication islamique au Moyen Age’, Quaderni di Studi Arabi, 5–6 (1987–88), 337– 46; Linda G. Jones, ‘Prophetic Performances: Reproducing the Charisma of the Prophet in Medieval Islamic Preaching’, in Charisma and Religious Authority, pp. 19–47; Linda G. Jones, The Power of Oratory in the Medieval Muslim World (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012); Linda G. Jones, La predicación medieval: sermones cristianos, judíos e islámicos en el Mediterráneo / Medieval Preaching: Christian, Jewish and Islamic Sermons in the Mediterranean, in Anuario de Estudios Medievales, ed. by Linda G. Jones, 42: 1 (2012); and Merlin L. Swartz, ‘Arabic Rhetoric and the Art of the Homily in Medieval Islam’, in Religion and Culture in Medieval Islam, ed. by Richard G. Hovannisian and Georges Sabagh, Giorgio Levi Della Vida Conferences, 14 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), pp. 39–65. 43. It is well beyond the scope of this introduction to provide anything more than an outline of Jewish-Christian relations in the Middle Ages. Suggested further reading: Bernhard Blumenkranz, Juifs et les chrétiens dans le monde Occidental 430–1096 (Paris: Mouton, 1960); Robert Chazan, Medieval Stereotypes and Modern Antisemitism (Berkeley: California University Press, 1997); Robert Chazan, The Jew in Medieval Western Christendom, 1000–1500 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006); Les juifs au regard de l’histoire. Mélanges en l’honneur de Bernhard Blumenkranz, ed. by Gilbert Dahan (Paris: Picard, 1985); Jonathan Elukin, Living Together Living Apart: Rethinking Jewish-Christian Relations in the Middle Ages (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2007); The Jews of Europe in the Middle Ages (Tenth to Fifteenth Centuries): Proceedings of the International Symposium Held at Speyer, 20–25 October 2002, ed. by Christoph Cluse (Turnhout: Brepols, 2004); Essential Papers on Judaism and Christianity in Conflict: From Late Antiquity to the Reformation, ed. by Jeremy Cohen (New York: New York University Press, 1991); Jacob Katz, Exclusiveness and Tolerance: Studies in Jewish-Gentile Relations in Medieval and Modern Times (New York: Behrman, 1961); Gavin Langmuir, Towards a Definition of Antisemitism (Berkeley: California University Press, 1990); Friars and Jews in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, ed. by Steven J. McMichael and Susan E. Myers, The Medieval Franciscans, 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2004); David Nirenberg, Communities of Violence: Persecution of Minorities in the Middle Ages (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996); Anna Sapir Abulafia, Christian-Jewish Relations 1000–1300: Jews in the

Introduction

44.

45.

46.

47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52.

19

Service of Medieval Christendom, The Medieval World (Harlow: Pearson, 2011); Heinz Schreckenberg, Die christlichen Adversus-Judaeos-Texte und ihr literarisches und historisches Umfeld (1.–11. Jh.), 2nd edn (Frankfurt: Peter Lange, 1990); Heinz Schreckenberg, Die christlichen Adversus-JudaeosTexte und ihr literarisches und historisches Umfeld (13.–20. Jh.) (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1994); Shlomo Simonsohn, The Apostolic See and the Jews, Studies and Texts, 109, 8 vols (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1988–91); Kenneth Stow, Alienated Minority: The Jews of Medieval Latin Europe (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992); Kenneth Stow, Pope, Church and Jews in the Middle Ages: Confrontation and Response, Variorum Collected Studies Series (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007); Miriam S. Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity: A Critique of the Scholarly Consensus, Studia Post-Biblica, 46 (Leiden: Brill, 1995); and Christianity and Judaism, ed. by Diana Wood, Studies in Church History, 29 (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992). Augustine, Epistula, 149, published in S. Aurelius Augustinus, Epistulae, ed. by Al. Goldbacher, Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, 44 (Vienna: Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1904), p. 356. On Augustine and the Jews, see Paula Fredriksen, Augustine and the Jews: A Christian Defense of Jews and Judaism, rev. edn (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010). See, for example, Robert Chazan, European Jewry and the First Crusade (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), and Jeremy Cohen, Sanctifying the Name of God: Jewish Martyrs and Jewish Memories of the First Crusade (Philadelphia: University of Philadelphia Press, 2004). David Nirenberg links these massacres to the Holocaust in ‘The Rhineland Massacres of Jews in the First Crusade: Memories Medieval and Modern’, in Medieval Concepts of the Past: Ritual, Memory, Historiography, ed. by Gerd Althoff, Johannes Fried, and Patrick J. Geary, Publications of the German Historical Institute (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), pp. 279–309. Anna Foa, The Jews of Europe after the Black Death (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000); Philip Ziegler, The Black Death, new edn (Stroud: History Press, 2010); and Samuel K. Cohn, ‘The Black Death and the Burning of Jews’, Past and Present, 196 (2007), 3–36. This is very much the theme of Robert Chazan’s book Medieval Stereotypes and Modern Antisemitism. See the next section, ‘Preaching and the Jews’. It is perhaps worth bearing in mind that the Church simply annihilated many of its other enemies—for example, the Cathars during the Albigensian Crusade (1209–29). Jeremy Cohen, The Friars and the Jews: The Evolution of Medieval Anti-Judaism (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1982). Cohen discusses only two preachers to the people in depth: Berthold of Regensburg and Giordano of Rivalto. See reviews by Anna Sapir Abulafia, ‘The Evolution of Medieval Anti-Judaism’, Theoretische Geschiedenis, 11 (1984), 77–81; Robert I. Burns, ‘Anti-Semitism and Anti-Judaism in Christian History: A Revisionist Thesis’, Catholic Historical Review, 70 (1984), 90–93; Carlo Delcorno, ‘I mendicanti i gli Ebrei: a proposito di un recente libro’, Cristianesimo nella storia, 6 (1985), 263–73; and the chapter by Jussi Hanska in this volume. In his Living Letters of the Law: Ideas of the Jew in Medieval Christianity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), pp. 313–16, Cohen moderates his original position, but does not change his argument that the Dominicans and the Franciscans took the lead in missionizing and attacking the Jews.

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53. Michael Hohlstein, Soziale Ausgrenzung im Medium der Predigt. Der franziskanische Antijudaismus im spätmittelalterlichen Italien, Norm und Struktur, 35 (Cologne: Böhlau, 2012). 54. Robin Vose, Dominicans, Muslims and Jews in the Medieval Crown of Aragon (Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 2009). 55. Friars and Jews in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, ed. by Steven J. McMichael and Susan E. Myers, The Medieval Franciscans, 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2004); Preaching in Judaism and Christianity: Encounters and Developments from Biblical Times to Modernity, ed. by Alexander Deeg, Walter Homolka, and Heinz-Günther Schöttler, Studia Judaica: Forschungen zur Wissenschaft des Judentums, 41 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2008); and Charisma and Religious Authority: Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Preaching, 1200–1500, ed. by Katherine L. Jansen and Miri Rubin, Europa Sacra, 4 (Brepols: Turnhout, 2010). 56. On the ‘long Middle Ages’ and periodization in western civilization more generally, see Jacques Le Goff, The Birth of Europe (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005).

Part I

Regional Studies

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Preaching and Jews in Late Antique and Visigothic Iberia Raúl González Salinero

INTRODUCTION Right from the outset, the religious leaders of early Christian communities not only were in charge of evangelizing, but also took upon themselves the task of teaching the people a single doctrine, thus promoting group cohesion and bolstering apologetic defences against other religious phenomena in their surroundings.1 Thanks to the authority they derived from their position as teachers and from their charisma, the bishops enjoyed considerable influence in the social and religious spheres from the third century onwards.2 They played a key role in the process of educating the Christian community and, by extension, in the establishment and consolidation of the orthodox doctrine accepted by the official (Arian or Nicene) Church of the time.3 As the highest-ranking religious leaders in local churches, bishops were held to be repositories of in-depth knowledge on divine matters and were in charge of preserving and transmitting this knowledge to the community as a whole.4 Christian bishops were well aware of the importance of ‘communication’, for the purpose of which they used the classical art of public speaking in their sermons to attract the attention of their audiences.5 Bishops such as Ambrose or Augustine eventually became the ‘Christian educators’ of the privileged classes6 precisely due to the public role they played as prestigious praedicatores and, especially, due to the fact that their sermons showcased their thorough training in classical rhetoric.7 It is true that in order to play a significant role in Christian communities, extensive knowledge of the exegesis of Scripture was a must. Nevertheless, its correct interpretation also demanded the ability to explain it properly, hence the importance of rhetoric in preaching.8 Integrating classical patterns in the affirmation and extension of doctrine also made Christianity a more accessible and attractive religion for those sectors of society that were particularly identified with the structures of classical education and the cultural tradition of Antiquity. Thus, preachers took up the responsibility of converting the masses of unbelieving pagans who usually flocked to the basilicas due to the rhetorical mastery displayed in sermones. This led clerics to become the new ‘teachers’ of the societies of Late Antiquity and the High Middle Ages.9

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Nevertheless, over time, the remaining religious leaders, especially those in the higher echelons,10 would also participate as ‘delegations’ in the ‘pastoral mission’ of bishops, spreading the ‘ecclesiastical model’ of Christian conduct. It is therefore logical that, as Augustine points out, it was common for presbyters, as well as bishops, to preach, at least as far as the African Church is concerned.11 Keeping in mind that preaching to believers was the principal means of ideological transmission and reproduction for Church doctrine, it follows that this vital function required the participation of the most influential members in the hierarchy of local churches. Preaching remained the exclusive prerogative of bishops but, due to its importance in maintaining orthodoxy within the community, the next-lower ecclesiastical ranks (presbyters and deacons) took up an increasing number of tasks in the pastoral field.12 It is for this reason that Augustine promoted the establishment of a better-trained and qualified clergy who could successfully carry out significant evangelizing tasks, as well as confronting the adversaries of the Church: pagans, Jews, and ‘heretics’.13 A similar process took place in the Late Ancient Hispanic and Visigothic Church. The Fathers at the Council of Valencia (549) acknowledged the importance of episcopal speeches in the Church, stating that ‘some had been drawn to the faith after hearing the preaching of bishops’.14 Years later, the Second Council of Braga (572) dictated that bishops in charge of selecting their peers should make sure that their candidates were truly suitable for preaching before being ordained (canon 1). For this reason, bishops had to be fluent in the Holy Scripture and the doctrine of the Church in order to be able to teach the Christian faith correctly. In this way, the Fourth Council of Toledo (633) ordered that ‘bishops should therefore know the Holy Scripture and the canons, so that all their work may consist in preaching, doctrine, and the education of all, both through the science of faith and the rightfulness of their conduct’.15 However, both deacons and presbyters could also collaborate in preaching, albeit in a subordinate capacity. The Second Council of Seville (619) warned that preaching, which was characteristic of the episcopal order, should be taken up by lower ranks only in the absence of the bishop (canon 7). According to Isidore of Seville, the full exercise of priesthood befell bishops, who were fully endowed with the triple power of preaching, sanctifying, and governing the people of God over whom they presided. In spite of their status as priests, presbyters lacked the plenitude of that triple power save through a delegation from the bishop.16 According to the Pseudo-Isidorian epistle Ad Leudefrum episcopum, presbyters were in charge of ‘predicare Euangelium et Apostolum [preaching the Gospel and the Lives of the Apostles]’, whereas readers and deacons were in charge of the Old and New Testaments respectively.17 Nevertheless, these pastoral tasks required a high level of scriptural and doctrinal training that the lower clergy did not always possess. In fact, religious training in the Spanish clergy was a constant source of concern for the Church hierarchy, especially from the sixth century onwards. In the year 517, Pope

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Hormisdas asked Spanish bishops not to accept people who lacked sufficient religious knowledge or whose conduct was not exemplary into the ranks of the clergy, as, according to the pontiff, ‘it is necessary to learn before being able to teach, and one must offer an example of religious conduct rather than having to receive it’.18 Based on the information provided by other contemporary sources on the subject, it would seem that the accurate words of the bishop of Rome were far from mere rhetoric. The First Council of Braga (561) and the Capitula Martini (Capitula ex Orientalium Patrum Synodis), a work compiled by Martin of Braga, shed light on the ignorance of the Spanish clergy.19 This problem was also evoked by Licinian, the metropolitan bishop of Cartagena, when he wrote to Gregory the Great, describing the hurdles he faced to find learned men who could take up positions as priests, which often forced him to accept men tainted with a legal record for serious crimes, such as bigamy, in order to ensure that there were enough preachers for the Church.20 The Second Council of Braga (572) ordered bishops to visit the churches in their dioceses in order to assess the knowledge of their priests so that those who lacked the required knowledge could be properly indoctrinated (canon 1). A few years later, the Council of Narbonne (589) forbad ‘ordaining deacons and presbyters that were litteras ignorantes’ (canon 11). According to Isidore of Seville, knowledge of prayer was insufficient to be a clergyman: One also had to be able to read the word of God and meditate on its meaning in order to be able to preach it through words and deeds.21 In spite of the fact that clergymen were obliged to learn the Psalter and the usual chants and hymns in order to carry out the rite of baptism correctly, the bishops at the Eighth Council of Toledo (653) admitted that some sacred ministers ‘were so obviously ignorant they showed that they were not sufficiently learned in the precepts they were supposed to carry out on a daily basis’.22 There was no doubt that this situation was highly problematic for preaching to believers for, as Isidore pointed out, the ignorance of a preacher not only fails to convince but also tends to repel listeners from the message.23 Keeping in mind the fundamentally liturgical character that homiletic production had acquired by the sixth century, as a means to prevent and redress heterodox, pagan, or Judaizing positions, the Visigothic Fathers paid special attention to pastoral work, to the relevance of liturgical books,24 and to preaching directed to the different groups within the community (catechumeni or fideles).25 PREACHING AND ANTI-JEWISH POLEMICS Generally, the preaching carried out by the Church hierarchy had a fundamentally didactic purpose. For example, homilies meant for catechumens during the period prior to baptism or for neophytes were essentially the same, both in their general structure and their style, as the liturgical-didactic homilies pronounced before the rest of the congregation on Sundays. In both

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cases, the bishop simply introduced Church doctrine in the same manner.26 Nevertheless, apart from the fundamentally didactical function of homiletic speeches (in their three literary forms: tractatus, sermones, and homiliae),27 they also had a particularly significant trait: their dialectical nature. Indeed, as Francisco Javier Tovar Paz argues, the original relevance of praedicatio in the field of dialectics was as a kind of indoctrinating ‘communication’ that responded, first and foremost, to a context of religious diffusion: hostile subjects who already had a previous religious idiosyncrasy that was to be eliminated and replaced. This was the situation, for instance, for Christianity in its dispute with Jews or pagans. According to Tovar Paz, ‘preaching, thus, seems to refer to the colonizing process of a new religion that presented itself as an opposite dialectical pole compared to pre-established rituals’.28 Keeping in mind that, along with its didactic nature, praedicatio was mainly associated with a context of religious controversy, the ideological spread of anti-Judaism in the Christian community would find one of its main vehicles of expression and diffusion in preaching.29 In fact, as Rosemary Radford Ruether points out, it was ‘virtually impossible’ for Christian preachers or exegetes to carry out the spiritual teaching of doctrine without referring to the principles that sustained theology against the Jewish religion.30 Teachings on Scripture and preaching per se could not avoid Christological polemic and, therefore, anti-Judaism. In sermones, Jews were portrayed as despicable enemies and a symbol of the part of humanity that as yet remained unredeemed.31 Preachers such as Zeno of Verona showed that, by using the tool of classical rhetoric, their sermons became the most effective way to expose Jews as a paradigm of evil to be avoided before the community. The exegesis of doctrine offered enough possibilities to persuade believers that the Jewish religion, past and present, led to a life in opposition to God.32 Using ‘pulpit rhetoric’, Christian pastors insistently instructed their congregations, and especially neophytes, on the subject of the enemies of the Church. For instance, there is the example in which a bishop approached his audience by preaching against the enemies of Christianity, immediately after having instructed catechumens on this subject. Indeed, the sermon Contra Iudaeos, Paganos et Arianos was given by Quodvultdeus of Carthage on the day that followed an entire night of religious service that had, apparently, been dedicated to the preparation of baptism.33 Consequently, a positive appraisal of a bishop or praedicator largely depended on his capacity to face up to the enemies of the Church, which doubtlessly included the Jews. Thus, for instance, Vincent of Lérins praised Nestorius for having publicly rebutted ‘the pernicious mistakes of Jews and pagans’, holding his dialectical prowess—one of the functions expected from Christian ministers—to be one of the highest values by which the greatness of a man of the cloth may be measured.34 After Cyprian of Carthage, the content of sermons Adversus Iudaeos began to focus on the repudiation of Israel and its substitution by gentiles as the new people of God and sole

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recipient of divine promises.35 Preachers in Late Roman and Visigothic Hispania took up this idea as a doctrinal principle against Judaism, and Jewish precepts and customs (Sabbath, circumcision, dietary laws, and so on) were the butt of constant criticism in sermons directed to Christians. CHRISTIAN PREACHING AND JEWS IN LATE ROMAN HISPANIA The Council of Elvira (c. 304) offers sufficient evidence of the presence and vitality of Jewish communities in Hispania and reveals the ecclesiastical opposition to Judaizing tendencies detected among some members of Christian communities. The canons approved by the Spanish bishops in this provincial council display the blunt reaction of a Church hierarchy that intended to prevent Christian believers from coexisting, as they had until then, with the Jews, because influence from the Jews’ attractive religious practices and customs created an alarming risk of Judaizing contamination within the Christian community that was harmful to the reaffirmation of Church authority.36 Despite the fact that the Council Fathers said nothing on how their decisions were to be transmitted and applied, there is no doubt that communicating these new canonical norms to Christians could have been carried out only through preaching. During the second half of the fourth century, several decades after the Council of Elvira had been held, Gregory, the bishop of that city, was once again required to confront the problems that, apparently, originated from the presence of Jews and their close relations with members of the Christian community.37 Some of the homilies that have survived to this day reveal a growing fear of Judaization that can be explained only by the continued attractiveness of Jewish religious customs and practices to Christian believers.38 As a matter of fact, in these homilies, which had been or were to be preached to his followers during liturgical rites, and for which reason they were written in a plain, almost colloquial style,39 Gregory of Elvira reveals that there were still frequent public discussions between Jews and Christians on subjects such as Sabbath rest or circumcision during his time.40 Thus, his intention was that his sermons should help members of his community to defend Christian doctrine in their debates with their Jewish neighbours, and it follows that his anti-Jewish polemics was an outcome of the Church’s policy of rejecting Judaism during that period. Hence, all pastoral activity was devoted to spreading this message among his Christian followers and, even though he occasionally rhetorically addressed Jews, his preaching was exclusively meant for members of his community: Quid ergo, Iudaee, adhuc umbram futurorum ex lege sectaris, cum iam finis legis Xpistus aduenerit, in quo non umbra, sed ueritas, non figura, sed plenitudo religionis est reddita? Tunc etenim omnia in imagine quasi per aenigmata gerebantur, nunc ueritas illustrata successit.41

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Raúl González Salinero Why, o Jew, do you still remain in the shadow of things to come, that comes from the Law, now that Christ, who is the end of the Law, has come, now that we have not been granted a shadow, but the light, and not a figure, but the fullness of religion? For in those times, all things happened in images, as in enigmas, whereas the clear truth has now come.

The separation or rupture between Christianity and Judaism is a constant in Gregory’s sermons, with which he constantly strove to convince his congregation to put an end to all normal relations between the two confessions. In the spirit of the provisions approved at the Council of Elvira, Gregory offers a particular interpretation of the biblical episode in which Sarah forbids her child from playing with the child of a slave. He does this to warn his audience of the wrongness of coexisting with Jews,42 whose religious legacy had lost all value because ‘since Christ, the Son of God, deigned to come as a man and was wedded to human flesh and soul, the Law and the prophets were ended’.43 Despite the fact that Christian beliefs were deeply rooted in Jewish traditions, the exhaustion of Jewish Law had led to the coming of Christ and the divine choice of the gentile people.44 From that moment onwards, the Church had become the Verus Israel and would, therefore, be the only recipient of biblical promises: Sed et omnia bona caelestis regni quae Iudaeis repromissa erant nos per fidem Xpisti consecuti sumus, qui ueri Israelitae a Domino nuncupamur.45 But all the blessings of the kingdom of Heaven that were promised to the Jews have been attained by us, who are called true Israelites by the Lord, through faith in Christ. Gregory points out the servitude of having to follow the precepts of the Law of Moses, from which Christ freed Christians.46 Thus, he indicates the uselessness of the Sabbath, a day in which Jews descend, like animals, into their insatiable gluttony and wantonness,47 even though, at least, they stopped committing crimes during that time;48 he attacked the rite of circumcision49 as being contrary to human nature50 and to the true Christian circumcision of the heart provided by baptism,51 and he also censured Passover. All of the foregoing questions were, undoubtedly, sources of constant friction between Christians and Jews.52 Wishing to discredit any religious authority other than that of the Church, Gregory insisted on the precautions his flock should take against the seduction of ‘false priests’, Jewish and heretic alike, who could not compare to Catholic ministers, whose preaching spread the true food of the word of God to believers.53 Likewise, special preventive measures should be taken against Jewish synagogues themselves, as, in his own words, they were ‘lairs’ in which the Church had been persecuted and which concealed innumerable

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evils.54 Synagogues were, by definition, vicious, wandering (having been repudiated and punished to roam in foreign lands),55 sinful, criminal,56 ‘meretrix [a harlot]’, adulterous,57 and ‘sterilis in uirtutibus [barren of virtues]’.58 Furthermore, he stated that the deicidal59 Jewish people had been punished, for their innumerable sins, to be the slave of the gentile people,60 and with the coming of the Antichrist the Jews’ evil would be laid openly manifest for all.61 Throughout many of his homiletic texts, Gregory berated the Jews with offensive names such as ‘stulti [fools]’, ‘idolatrae [idolators]’, ‘peccatores [sinners]’,62 ‘increduli [unbelievers]’, ‘indigni [undeserving]’, ‘impii [wicked]’, and ‘duricordes [hard-hearted]’,63 or by calling them intellectually inferior.64 It is obvious that, through such accusations and insults, the bishop of Elvira intended to discredit Judaism as much as possible in order to minimize its influence in Christian circles.65 It is true that, in his preaching, he also considered the possibility of using persuasion to make Jews convert by repenting their sins; this approach was unlikely to yield any results and it was, in fact, simply another argument used to reaffirm the doctrine of mercy and forgiveness of the Church in contrast with the hard-heartedness of Judaism: Quanta enim pietas, quanta clementia Dei et Saluatoris nostri, ut et ipsos interfectores suos, si conuersi credant et factorum suorum paenitentiam agant, omnia eis delicta per baptismatis gratiam dignetur ignoscere!66 How great is the mercy and forgiveness of the Lord and our Saviour, who through the grace of baptism even forgives the crimes of those same people who killed him if they convert, believe, and make penance for their sins! Just as the bishops gathered at Elvira at the beginning of the fourth century had attempted to correct the deviant behaviour of some Christians by approving of disciplinary measures, Gregory raised his persuasive, albeit threatening, voice once again before his congregation in the basilica to exhort them, in a language rife with biblical images and a clearly didactic bent,67 to resist with strength and faith any temptation to Judaize: Nam et synagogae plebes mulieres et ipsae esse dicuntur, quas meretricatas saepenumero post deos alienos [Ieremias 16. 11] sancta Scriptura testator, et proinde a Christo admonetur Ecclesia, ut inter has mulieres, id est inter laves haereticorum et synagogae congregationes quas mulieres appellat, nisi se uirginem in doctrina, incorruptam in fide, speciosam in bonis operibus cognouisset, talem exitum habituram ese, qualem pertulit populus Israel, quia qui naturalibus ramis non perpercit, ut Apostolus dicit, nec uobis inquit parcet insertis, nisi in eiusdem bonitate permanseris [Ad Romanos 11. 21].68

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Raúl González Salinero But the communities of Synagogue are also called women, for, according to the Scripture, they have often fornicated by following foreign gods. [Jeremiah 16. 11] And this is why Christ has admonished the Church that if, among those women, that is, among the taint of heretics and meetings of the Synagogue [known as women], it was not known that the Church is a virgin in doctrine, incorrupt in faith, and beautiful in good deeds, she would have suffered a fate akin to that of the people of Israel, for if God spared not the natural branches, as the Apostle said, take heed lest he also not spare thee [Romans 11. 21].

Some sermons by Potamius, the bishop of Lisbon, have survived to this day. According to Tovar Paz, they reveal an intense educational vocation.69 Although their main subject is related to fighting Arianism,70 some of their most polemic passages contain anti-Jewish invectives. As a matter of fact, the disrepute the bishop cast upon the Arian Church was fed by its association with Judaism, a religion that had become the quintessential term for negative comparisons.71 Thus, for instance, in his Tractatus de substantia Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, which clearly takes the form of a sermon,72 Potamius aims to show his audience how, in their time, Arians were constantly subjecting Christ to a renewed passion through the same cruelty to which the Jews had subjected the Lamb of God.73 In fact, as emerges from reading his homily De martyrio Isaiae,74 the deicide committed by Jews defined the criminal character of Judaism, a trait Arians intended to emulate with their blasphemous heresy against the integrity of Nicene doctrine.75 Patianus of Barcelona, a bishop who died between 384 and 388, left us two sermons. The first was mainly directed at catechumens (De baptismo), whereas the second was used to instruct the entire community of believers and, especially, penitents (Paraenesis ad poenitentiam).76 Both were related to the epistolary polemic he supported using Simpronian,77 who believed that the redemptive capacity of baptism removed the need for penance.78 The two sermons were the result of Patianus wanting to fulfil his pastoral obligation to instruct believers in doctrinal orthodoxy.79 Patianus, who explained the value of baptism and penance with perfect dogmatic rigour throughout these sermons,80 defended the unity of the Catholic religion to his audience while considering, perhaps misleadingly, the possibility of attracting Jews towards the Catholic faith. In his sermon on baptism, he attacked the Law of Sin and Death81 that had been abolished by Christ and replaced with the purifying baptism provided by the Church: Atque ita Christi semen id est Dei spiritus, nouum hominem aluo matris agitatum, et partu fontis exceptum, manibus sacerdotis effundit, fide tamen pronuba.82 Thus, the generative virtue of Christ, that is, the divine spirit, produces a new man formed within the womb of his mother [the Church], and

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given birth through baptism by the hands of the priest, with the assistance of faith. Guided by the devil who had inspired the previous Law, the Jews (‘scribas et pharisaeos et omnem illam impiorum cateruam [the Scribes, and the Pharisees and that entire congregation of the wicked]’) slew Christ the Saviour, believing that humanity would thus be damned to hell,83 and yet that cruel crime led to the defeat of sin and provided salvation for all those who entered the Church through baptism.84 As in the case of Gregory of Elvira, Patianus defended, in his third letter to Simpronian, the idea that circumcision did not provide any benefit to man: Only the sacrament of baptism, provided by the Church, accompanied by penance, could lead to salvation.85 His argument against the absurd prescriptions of the Law of Moses, in his second sermon, was unambiguous: His igitur nos omnibus multisque praeterea carnalibus uitiis, ut citius ad destinata perueniat, sanguis Domini liberauit, redemptos a seruitute legis, et libertate fidei mancipatos.86 However, we were freed from all these precepts and the many carnal vices [of the Jews], that each may sooner reach his goal, by the blood of our Lord, thus redeeming us from the servitude of the Law and emancipating us through the freedom of faith. In his polemic against the position defended by Simpronian on the dubious need for Jews who had converted to the Christian faith to make penance, the bishop of Barcelona replied that it was necessary for them to do so in order to atone for having profaned their former baptism.87 Thus, by justifying the penance of Jews after baptism, Patianus revealed that he was in favour of the conversion and, by extension, the evangelization of Jews.88 However, there is no evidence, in his surviving sermons, that his preaching was intended to promote the conversion of Jews to Christianity. On the contrary, he himself stated that his pastoral teachings were exclusively meant for the Christian community: Praeterea nullus existimet, hunc ipsum de paenitentiae institutione sermonem solis tantummodo paenitentibus ordinatum, ne propter hoc, quisquis extra hunc gradum positus est, ea quaecumque dicentur, uelut in alios destinata fastidiat, cum in hanc quasi fibulam totius ecclesiae disciplina notetur, quando et catechuminis ne in hoc transeant, et fidelibus ne in hoc redeant prouidendum sit; ipsis uero paenitentibus ut celeriter ad fructum huius operis perueniant laborandum.89 Furthermore, let nobody imagine that this sermon on penance is only meant for penitents, and that those who are not penitents in any degree

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Raúl González Salinero may ignore what is said here as being meant for others; for this is a brooch that binds the entire discipline of the Church, as catechumens must be wary not to fall, the faithful must not slide back; and penitents themselves must work to rapidly reap the fruits of repentance.

Without doubt, the subject that sparked his doctrinal quarrel with Simpronian (related to questions of baptism and penitence) coincided with his pastoral activity, because he reproached Patianus for including an incorrect interpretation of some passages of Scripture in his teachings. Patianus defended himself in a letter: ‘You claim that my quote of that passage of the divine scripture was out of place’.90 Thus, even in these polemic epistles, we find the same underlying pastoral concerns that are reflected in his sermons directed to the Christian people. An epistle rhetorically sent c. 418 by Bishop Severus of Minorca to the leaders of the Universal Church reveals how this man’s pastoral work was also clearly conditioned by Adversus Iudaeos polemics. The bishop describes the violent episodes that precipitated the forced conversion of the Minorcan Jews to Christianity. As the bishop himself points out, there was an atmosphere of peaceful, friendly coexistence between Jews and Christians in the city of Magona (Maó/Mahón), even though the former were far more numerous. Nevertheless, the situation changed with the arrival of a fanatical presbyter from Jerusalem carrying the relics of the proto-martyr Stephen. Thus, incited and led by Severus, the Christians put into practice that which their ardent faith demanded: ‘to save that multitude’.91 First, they harassed and persecuted the Jews,92 and then they burned down the synagogue.93 These actions, which were followed by several counteractions,94 led to the conversion of the entire Jewish community to Christianity.95 The events struck Severus as amazing and prodigious. He hardly concealed his hostility towards the Jews on the island in the opening of his letter: Magona tantis Iudaeorum populis velut colubris scorpionibusque fervebat, ut quotidie ab his Christi ecclesia morderetur. Sed antiquum illud carnale beneficium, nuper nobis spiritualiter renovatum est, ut illa, sicut scriptum est, ‘generatio viperarum’ quae venenatis ictibus saeviebat, subito divina virtute compulsa mortiferum illud virus incredulitatis abiecerit.96 Magona seethed with so great a multitude of Jews, as if with vipers and scorpions, that Christ’s Church was being wounded by them daily. But that ancient, earthly favour was recently renewed for us in a spiritual sense, so that, as it is written, that generation of vipers [Luke 3. 7], which used to attack with venomous stings, suddenly under the compulsion of divine power has cast aside the lethal poison of unbelief. The conversion of the Jewish community to the Christian faith was not, however, brought about through the bishop’s persuasiveness, but rather

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through violence—or the fear of violence—from exalted Christians. The Jews refused to go to church on Saturdays97 and to listen to the bishop preaching in their synagogue, where he had gone in the company of a great multitude of Christians with the goal of teaching them the true faith. Terrified by this sudden proselytizing zeal and willing to defend themselves, the Jews took up swords and clubs: Nos codices ad docendum detulimus, vos ad occidendum gladios ac vectes. Nos acquirere cupimus, vos perdere desideratis. Non est, quantum arbitror, aequum ut tam varia lite alterutrum laboremus. Vos vero, ut video, sititis nostrum sanguinem, nos vestram salutem.98 We brought books in order to instruct; you brought swords and clubs to commit murder. We wish to increase; you desire to destroy. In my judgement, our struggle is not on an equal footing and our conflict is very different on the two sides. As I see it, you thirst for our blood, while we thirst for your salvation. Being well aware of the fact that the Jews were immune to Christian preaching after having made his first attempt, Severus himself admitted to having failed with words.99 The bishop accepted the fact that it was impossible to persuade the rabbis, tacitly conceding their superiority in scriptural knowledge. No theologian could bend the iron will of Theodore, a doctor legis, pater patrum, and the leader of the local synagogue: Ibi Theodorus cum audacter de lege contendens omnia quae obiciebantur irrideret atque perverteret, populus Christianus videns quia verbis superari non posset humanis, auxilium de caelo imploravit.100 There Theodorus debated boldly about the Law, and after he had mocked and twisted all of our objections, the Christian throng, seeing that he could not be vanquished by human arguments, prayed for assistance from heaven. Like Gregory of Elvira, Severus of Minorca knew that no amount of preaching would lead Jews to convert to Catholicism. Nevertheless, the sudden Christian fervour to bring them salvation could have been brought about only by the intense preaching of the bishop. At the highest point of narrative tension, Severus offers a brief digression, prior to the description of the fatal confrontation between both communities, in which he provides an antiJewish interpretation of both of their dreams. In his own dream, he describes the image of a barren field he must sow, developing the theme of the opposition between the young and fruitful Church, and the widowed and barren Synagogue.101 It is no coincidence that this prophetic vision was the subject chosen for his sermon to the Christian people in such delicate circumstances:

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Raúl González Salinero Hoc somnium utriusque unum est: ante triginta ferme quam implerentur dies, et vidisse nos et, licet absolutionem eius ignoreremus, tamen fratribus indicasse manifestum est.102 The dream is identical in each case. It is well established that I both saw the vision about thirty days before it was fulfilled and, although I knew nothing of its fulfilment, that I recounted it to the brethren.

The epistle closes with the exhortation of Severus to his fellow bishops to act likewise. Christian persuasion would have no effect on the Jews. Only preaching to the people of God would lead to the conversion of the Jews by force: Quamobrem si indigni et peccatoris verbum dignanter admittitis, zelum Christi adversum Iudaeos sed pro eorumdem perpetua salute suscipite. Forsitam enim iam illud praedictum ab Apostolo venit tempus, ut plenitudine gentium ingressa omnis Israel salvus fiat.103 Wherefore, if you accept respectfully the word of an unworthy sinner, take up Christ’s zeal against the Jews, but do so for the sake of their eternal salvation. Perhaps that time predicted by the Apostle has indeed now come when the fullness of the gentiles will have come in and all Israel shall be saved. From the same period, we also have the Pseudo-Augustinian sermon (no. 239),104 wrongly attributed to Siagrius, although it is clearly of Hispanic origin, which contains a defence of the dogma of the Trinity in the face of certain heretical testimonies from gentile and Jewish circles.105 The theological nature of this sermon, which focuses in particular on the figure of the Holy Spirit, highlights the relevance that the apologetics of Church dogma against the strict monotheism of the Jews acquired at times. Nevertheless, as far as anti-Jewish polemics are concerned, protection from the danger of Judaizing influences on Christian religious behaviours remained the main goal of preaching directed to the community of the faithful. In the late sixth century, Licinian of Cartagena, the highest ecclesiastical authority in Byzantine-dominated Spania, noted, in one of his epistles, the existence of a ‘letter’ that had allegedly fallen from the sky, which contained, according to the metropolitan bishop, distinctly Judaizing traits by referring to the Sunday rest in terms similar to the Sabbath rest.106 This letter, addressed to Vincent, the bishop of Ibiza, was a blunt response to a missive he had received from him. In the letter that has survived, Licinian reproached Vincent for his carelessness in believing the authenticity of a false letter with Judaizing contents, written by a new preacher who was Judaeo-Christian or close to Judaism,107 and, especially,

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for having read it in public during his sermon: ‘It grieves me to see that you have given credit to this anonymous epistle you have sent me, and that you even read it from the pulpit to your congregation’.108 Faced with having to correct this erroneous doctrinal instruction caused by Vincent’s gullibility, Licinian ordered the immediate and public destruction of the pernicious Judaizing text: Enmendet ergo quod temere credidit sanctitas tua, et in presentia populi ipsam epistolam, si est penes te, rescinde, et hoc te peniteat quod de tribunali eam feceris recitari, beati Apostoli sequens doctrinam, quod inter cetera ad Galatas scripsit: ‘Si quis evangelizaverit vobis preter id quod accepistis anathema sit’.109 Your holiness must therefore recant the words you uttered so imprudently and, if the letter is still in your possession, you must destroy it publicly, in the presence of the people. You should be ashamed of having read it from the pulpit, following the words of the Apostle whom, among other things, wrote to the Galatians [1. 8]: ‘but if another should preach any other gospel unto you than that we have preached unto you, let him be cursed’. It is possible that Licinian was aware of the canon law on the subject of Sunday rest. It is true that the bishops congregated at the Third Council of Orléans (538) had stated in canon 31 (28) that rest on Sundays was foreign to Christian custom and that, on the contrary, it was a fraudulent imitation of Jewish custom. However, the Council of Narbonne (589, from the same era as Licinian) had ruled that any kind of agricultural work on the Lord’s Day was forbidden (canon 4).110 Being aware of these apparent canonical contradictions, Licinian showed Vincent that Sunday deserved no respect per se other than for the fact that the Lord had risen from the dead on that day.111 Furthermore, Licinian offered Vincent some proofs from the anti-Jewish tradition against the evil practice of Sabbath rest, which the alleged celestial letter attempted to emulate by inciting Christians to rest on Sundays: Utinam populus christianus, si die ipso Ecclesiam non frequentat, aliquod operis faceret, et non saltaret. Meliusque erat viro hortum facere, iter agere, mulieri colum tenere, et non ut dicitur, ballare, saltare, et membra a deo bene condita saltando male torquere, et ad excitandam libidinem nugatoribus cancionibus proclamare.112 If only Christian people would do some actual work, rather than dancing, if they did not go to church on that day! It would be far preferable for men to tend to their fields or to travel, and for women to

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Raúl González Salinero hold their strainers, rather than, as we described, dancing, gyrating, and contorting their bodies, which were modelled so harmoniously by God, in horrible ways, while singing dishonest chants to fuel lasciviousness.

Thus, Licinian’s uncompromising stand on eliminating the influence of certain Judaizing practices on believers is a clear reflection of the exercise of his episcopal authority faced with the grave problems that a deviant preaching of correct Church doctrine could bring upon the flock.113 ANTI-JEWISH PREACHING IN THE VISIGOTHIC KINGDOM It is undeniable that very few original sermons composed by local bishops in Visigothic Iberia have survived to this day.114 Based on the prescription of the Fourth Council of Toledo (canon 25), which ordered the thorough training of priests in Scripture to enable them to diligently indoctrinate the Christians under their spiritual care in the true faith, Paul Séjourné assumed that the high cultural level of the Visigothic clergy allowed its bishops to carry out their pastoral obligations correctly without having to compose homilies.115 The dearth of sermons, even as far as the outstanding Visigothic Church Fathers are concerned, can perhaps be explained by a lack of stenographers or reporters for transcribing speeches, as it was not usual for authors to write down their own sermons.116 On the other hand, the sixth century saw the rise of the custom of using collections of homilies by wellknown Church Fathers, put together by (usually anonymous) compilers, in order to make useful material available for drafting new sermons adapted to liturgical rites, or for reproducing them directly when preaching.117 We know, for instance, that Caesarius of Arles sent a collection of sermons that included homiletic texts by himself, Jerome, Augustine, and Gregory the Great to Hispania, among other places.118 It is therefore very likely that the collector of the Homiliae Toletanae, the largest preserved collection from the Visigothic Kingdom, used, among other texts, the same ones that had been compiled by Caesarius of Arles.119 Euginius of Toledo, for instance, stated that he preferred to recycle previous sermons rather than compose new ones for a ‘votive’ mass for the commemoration of the martyr Hyppolitus.120 Thus, according to Tovar Paz, ‘the use of centonization did not imply incapacity, but rather a specific response to the new reality formulated in homiletic literature by homiliaries in which creativity took a back seat to the (liturgical, hagiographic, thematic, etc.) appropriateness of the texts contained within the compilations’.121 Whereas it is true that preaching was of secondary importance at Visigothic councils, its presence is frequently attested to in the patristic production of the times. Some authors, such as Isidore of Seville or Taio of Saragossa, dedicated parts of their works to making a theoretical statement on the correct pastoral mission to which the high clergy was committed.

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Thus, as Fernández Alonso argues, ‘it can be said that the unfortunate lack of sermons in Hispano-Visigothic literature does not mean that this aspect of pastoral duty was particularly neglected; once again, we should point out the silence in conciliar canons on this important subject. This leads us to think that bishops and other clergymen usually fulfilled their duty to preach, which is described quite plainly in these canons, in a satisfactory matter, as failure to do so would doubtlessly have drawn attention’. Furthermore, among the various subjects that preaching covered, it is worth pointing out a significant presence of the ‘Jewish question’.122 It is true that we can detect, albeit implicitly at the time of Severus of Minorca, the false Christian thinking that would become widespread during the Middle Ages,123 through which Jews would be able to embrace Christianity simply by hearing the ‘seductive’ sermons of Church pastors. As I have pointed out earlier, the bishop of Minorca stated that, if they had listened to his words, the Jews would have converted immediately, without having to resort to violence.124 However, Severus’ words did not have any effect on the Jews of Minorca, nor is there any reliable episode recorded in Visigothic history in which such an astounding religious transformation took place as a result of irresistible pastoral persuasion. It is, therefore, unlikely that the Visigothic Fathers were convinced of the positive effects that the ‘charitable persuasion’ used by bishops on Arians who converted to Catholicism could have on Jews.125 In a letter addressed to Count Froga, Aurasius, the metropolitan bishop of Toledo (603–15), informed him of his excommunication for having humiliated the Church by publicly displaying his collusion with Judaism, for having fallen into sin for allowing the impious and sinful breath of the Jews’ dogma to enter his ears, and for allowing the apostasy of the Jews who, following divine mandate, had recently been baptized by himself (‘per nos’).126 As some scholars point out, the bishop implies that the conversion of the Jews had taken place as a consequence of the fabulous virtues of his preaching.127 It is true that this episode took place prior to the general decree of forced conversion ruled by Sisebuth (c. 616); however, it seems as if the immediate return of the Jews to their former religion as soon as they had secured the support of Count Froga (perhaps in exchange for money?) indicates that said ‘conversion’ did not, in fact, take place as a direct consequence of the bishop’s persuasion. In fact, it is very likely that intense pressure had already been applied on the Jewish minority since the times of Reccared, as the ruling establishment had long hoped to create a cohesive kingdom bound by a single religion (in this case, Catholicism)128—hence the fact that the bishop of Toledo informed Froga that he had announced the Count’s excommunication to the entire community during his sermon, so that believers would know of the terrible consequences of colluding with the diabolical Jewish faith. Indeed, it seems as if the ecclesiastical hierarchy had accepted the idea that Jews were immune to Christian preaching as an unquestionable truth. Being convinced that the restoration of Israel could take place only if, as

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St Paul said in Romans 11.11, they renounced their unbelief and embraced faith in Christ,129 the Visigothic Fathers believed that the conversion of the Jews would occur only at the End of Days thanks to the preaching of Elijah.130 Hence, any pastoral attempts in this direction were condemned to unmitigated failure. Julian of Toledo held that Jews were incapable of sincerely embracing the Christian faith because it would have gone against biblical prophecies: Nam si hactemus Iudaei recte credunt, ob quam causam eos per Eliam conuerti in nouissimo propheta testatur? Nec enim possunt nunc intellegere Saluatorem quem audiunt, nisi in finem mundi, dum fuerit consummatio saeculorum.131 Thus, if Jews believed rightly up until that moment, why would the prophet [Malachi] testify that Elijah would convert them again? For, indeed, they cannot recognize the Saviour they listen to, except at the end of the world, when the centuries have run their course. Implicitly accepting the failure of the forced conversions imposed by King Sisebuth, Isidore of Seville had already admitted that very few Jews wanted to receive Christian baptism of their own will.132 Reading Isidore’s treatise, De fide catholica contra Iudaeos, brings us to the conclusion that the main task of the Church (and, through direct involvement, of Christian rulers) was limited to preaching the Gospel solely to the Christian subjects of the kingdom.133 According to Eva Castro Caridad and Francisco Peña Fernández, it is true that ‘Isidore defended conversion through reason and he condemned forced baptisms; the explanation and reasons why the metropolitan bishop stated that preaching to the Jews is a useless and pointless mission, due to the stubbornness of the Jewish people, are unclear [. . .] Isidore never provided an answer to this contradiction that emerges from his writings’.134 Keeping in mind the importance Isidore gave to pastoral work and his concern for training the clergy of his time, it is highly likely that his polemic and doctrinal works against the Jews were essentially meant to educate Christian pastors (and learned Christians) so that they could face up to the problems that regularly emerged from Jews and Christians living side by side.135 Contrary to what Juan Gil writes,136 Isidore’s treatise against Jews was, according to Wolfram Drews, ‘part of his pastoral care for his Christian flock. Preaching was one of the primary tasks of bishops and priests in Visigothic Spain, it was one of the essential forms of communication whereby the faithful could be instructed and educated. The bulk of Isidore’s literary production is devoted to a comprehensive exposition of the vast body of theological and secular learning which provided the basis of such an education, either directly through reading and study by clergy and laypeople or indirectly by way of preaching’.137 In the first volume of his De fide catholica, Isidore defended the idea that faith could be awakened through

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baptism and preaching, but not a single chapter in the second part of this work, which is one of the most anti-Jewish in his output, is dedicated to homiletics. This seems to indicate that preaching was meant not for Jews but, rather, for clergymen in charge of reaffirming the faith of the Christian people.138 In fact, he states in his dedication that the work had been written to confirm Christians in their faith and to prove the ignorance of the Jews: ‘ut prophetarum auctoritas fidei gratiam firmet, et infidelium Iudaeorum imperitiam probet’. Thus, nothing should lead us to think that the Sevillian bishop was interested in winning over new converts from Judaism but, rather, to consolidate the Christian faith against other religious beliefs as the groundwork for the new identity of the gens Gothorum.139 Being considered a talented preacher,140 Isidore was very interested in the correct education of priests in anti-Jewish polemics, which they would transmit, in turn, to their congregations through preaching. Inspired by the exegetic texts from the patristic tradition, his work on the Allegoriae quaedam sacre scripturae, whose core subject is the opposition between the holy Church (prefigured by the biblical characters Abel, Isaac, or Jacob) and the blasphemous Synagogue (represented by the antagonists Cain, Ishmael, or Esau),141 was precisely meant to be used as an instrument for preaching.142 In his preface, Isidore stated that the purpose of this work was purely educational: to make the meaning of certain biblical names that remained hidden under the veil of allegory accessible to his readers.143 Isidore’s pastoral activity must have especially been focused on preaching from the pulpit of his church in Seville, which is why his production of homilies and sermons (which has not survived) must have been quite relevant. In fact, everything points to the fact that an important part of his pastoral work was at the origin of some of his treaties and vice versa.144 Thus, for instance, we may observe that his homiletic discourse, Testimonia de Christi passione, was actually an excerpt from the first book of his De fide catholica,145 in which he developed the anti-Jewish theme of deicide.146 The Homiliae Toletanae contain, once again, texts by Isidore that have been adapted to the homiletic genre. As soon as the sessions of the Sixth Council of Toledo (638) had opened, the deacon Turninus presented the congregated bishops with a pastoral letter from Pope Honorius I in which he derided them as ‘canes muti non ualentes latrare [mute dogs that are unable to bark]’ for having been too lenient with Jewish converts who had reneged the Christian faith. These claims were denied in the answer written by Braulius of Saragossa on behalf of the Spanish bishops, stating that the prelates of the Spanish Church did not harbour benevolence towards Jews but, rather, following the advice of St Paul147 and the tradition of the Spanish Church, they had preferred to pin their hopes on preaching rather than rigour:148 [P]ro qualitate temporum dispensatio extitit predicantum et quod a nobis non est hucusque sedatum, dispensatiue potius quam neclegenter

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Raúl González Salinero aut formidolose uestra noberit beatitudo perhactum, ut Apostolus monet [. . .] Quocirca artificioso temperamento agere uoluimus ut, quos uix inclinari posse disciplina rigida cernebamus, cristianis blanditiis flecteremus et genuinam duritiam ut adsiduis et longinquis predicationum fomentis subigeremus.149 According to the circumstances of the times, the preachers have carried out their duties; and, insofar as we have managed to bring appeasement, your holiness should keep in mind that we acted out of indulgence rather than carelessness or fear, as the Apostle recommends [. . .] This is why we have preferred to enact skilful measures, so that those who could not be submitted with rigid punishments could be turned with Christian softness and submitted through the continuous and uninterrupted balm of prescriptions of genuine severity.

Braulius informed the Pope that the Spanish Church had never displayed weakness in the measures it had applied so far to combat the perfidy of the Jews: ‘We carried out the public punishment of transgressors in the appropriate places, and we carried out our duty to preach’.150 However, it does not seem as if the alleged sermons meant for Jewish converts were more effective than the repression exerted upon those who had reneged the Christian faith or who continued to observe their Jewish customs in secret. It is true that, like all other Christians, Jewish converts were subjected to preaching by the Church,151 but the words of the bishops obviously failed to correct their innate ‘perfidy’. It is therefore very likely that, being aware of the uselessness of preaching, the Roman pontiff demanded that Spanish bishops faced with the Jewish problem act more decisively (by barking).152 Years later, Ildefonsus of Toledo proposed using persuasion once again with those who, nolentes, had been exhorted to embrace the Christian faith;153 however, at the same time, he also defended, using clearly homiletic language, the need to completely eradicate the Jewish faith, presenting Christians with the striking image of reason, like a knife, mercilessly cutting the perfidy of the Jews.154 Following in the footsteps of Isidore,155 Taio of Saragossa also undertook to write a book that could be used as a manual for ecclesiastical training directed especially towards those priests charged with preaching Christian doctrine to the common people.156 He based the book on the writings of Gregory the Great, to which he had access thanks to a trip he took to Rome in 652 with the sole purpose of bringing a copy of Gregory’s work back to Hispania. In his work, called Sententiarum libri quinque, Taio considers that the role of bishops (whom he also calls praepositi, rectores, doctores, and praelati) was to be as the shepherds of the Christian flock, which is why they needed to possess extensive doctrinal training and to lead exemplary lives.157 In short, according to him, there had to be perfect harmony between teaching and living, docere and vivere, ‘so that good pastors could spread the behaviour he displayed in his life through his words’.158 Nevertheless,

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the essential quality for the leader of the community was his profound learning—that is, his precise and correct knowledge of doctrine and of Holy Scripture: Fortes perseverantesque doctores velut imputribilia ligna quaerendi sunt, qui instructioni sacrorum voluminum semper inhaerentes sanctae Ecclesiae unitatem denuntiant, et quasi intromissi circulis arcam Domini portent.159 It is necessary to find doctors [of theology] who are strong and persistent, like incorruptible wood, so that they may proclaim the unity of the Church and carry the ark of God while steadfastly adhering to the teachings of the holy books. The behaviour of pastors had to be beyond reproach in the eyes of the community, and they had to be ever-mindful of the well-being of their neighbours while also correcting believers who strayed from the right path through his sermons: ‘Let the guide be one more companion of those who do good, exercising humility, but rising up against the vices of those who sin, for the sake of justice’.160 Thus, through preaching, Christians had to be warned against the Jews, who, through their tenacious unbelief, betrayed Christ and the Church. To do so, Taio recovered the doctrine expounded by Gregory the Great in some central passages of his Moralia in Job, Homiliae in Evangelium, and Homiliae in Ezechielem.161 Using a rhetorical language full of apparently simple images that were highly effective when preaching to the common people, Taio highlighted Jewish infidelity in the following terms: Omnia elementa auctorem suum venisse testata sunt. Ut enim de eis quaedam usu humano loquar, Deum hunc coeli asse cognoverunt, quia protinus stellam mi erunt. Mare cognovit, quia sub plantis eius se calcabile praebuit. Terra cognovit, quia eo moriente contremuit. Sol cognovit, quia lucis suae radios abscondit. Saxa et parietes cognoverunt, quia tempore mortis aius scissa sunt. Infernus agnovit, quia hos tenebat mortuos reddidit. Et tamen hunc, quem Dominum omnia insensibilia elementa senserunt, adhuc infidelium Iudaeorum corda Deum esse minime cognoscunt, et duriora saxis, scindi ad poenitendum nolunt.162 All natural elements attest to the fact that their author has come. By speaking about them in human terms, the heavens acknowledged that he was God, for they immediately sent forth a star. The sea acknowledged him, for it offered itself to be trod upon by his feet. The earth recognized him, for it trembled when he was dying. The sun recognized him, for it hid the rays of its light. The stones and the walls recognized him, for they split at the moment of his death. Hell recognized him, for he resurrected the dead. And, in spite of all that, the hearts of the Jewish

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Raúl González Salinero infidels to this day do not acknowledge that he whom all the insensible elements perceived is God, and, harder than rocks, the Jews refuse to open themselves to penitence.

The last sentence of this passage reveals that Taio perceived Jewish obstinacy as being as hard as rocks, thus preventing their sincere conversion to Christianity. Jewish ‘perfidy’ thus put up a steely resistance to Christian truth.163 Proof of this was the fact that Jewish converts secretly observed the precepts of their ancient Law.164 Thus, according to Taio, the defence of the Church implied the absolute refusal of all that represented the Synagogue, especially its outdated religious prescriptions: In loco Synagogae Dominus, ex qua per carnem natus est, sanctam Ecclesiam sibi in amore et contemplatione coniunxit, ut quae prius proxima ex cognatione, id est, cognita per praedestinationem fuerat, postmodum iam coniuncta in amore continuor uxor fiat. Synagoga idcirco ab auctore suo non recognoscitur, quia legis observationem tenens, spiritualem intellectum perdidit, et sese ad custodiam litterae foris fixit.165 As opposed to the Synagogue, which was born from the flesh, the Lord joined the Holy Church through love and contemplation, so that she, who had been a relative through blood, namely, known through predestination, should become forever a wife through love. The Synagogue is not acknowledged by her founder, for maintaining its observance of the Law has made her lose her spiritual intelligence, and she has remained outside as a custodian of the letter. Julian, archbishop of Toledo, like the remaining Visigothic Fathers, mostly focused his anti-Jewish polemics on the rejection of the precepts of the Law,166 which he held to be merely temporary and outdated after the coming of Christ.167 He dedicated a number of passages in his works to combating circumcision, the Sabbath, and Jewish dietary rules from a theological standpoint. As Jewish rites exerted a harmful attraction upon the Christian community, Julian was convinced that there was a true danger of Judaization.168 As a matter of fact, Visigothic lawmakers echoed the anti-Jewish message transmitted by Julian of Toledo and created several legal measures forbidding the practice of any religious rites of Jewish origin.169 These legal measures, however, did not appease Julian’s pastoral concerns. He went so far as to state, in his most important anti-Jewish work, that it was dangerous for a pastor to remain silent, infamous for him to flee, and mortal for him to succumb.170 Christian preachers could therefore assimilate the arguments he provided against the false beliefs and errors of the Jews,171 whose influence often made some believers waver in their faith.172 Moreover, according to Carlos Del Valle Rodríguez, this had allowed Jewish converts to harbour some hopes for their former religion.173

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Besides the fact that bishops could have used the theological contents of the treatises written by the great Visigothic authors to draft their own—no longer extant—sermons, collections of homiletic speeches by well-known Church Fathers, thematically adapted to the Visigothic liturgical calendar to assist them in their pastoral duties, were also available to them.174 The Toledan compilation known as Homiliae Toletanae,175 whose author could have been Ildefonsus or Julian of Toledo,176 dates back to the seventh century. According to Tovar Paz, ‘the main body of the Homiliae Toletanae is clearly organized on the basis of the Mozarab liturgical calendar, revealing a series of cycles, both thematic—such as the ones related to saints of Spanish origin or who were particularly transcendent in Hispania—and purely liturgical, such as the ones corresponding to the cycles of the Epiphany, Lent and Easter’.177 Among the texts adapted to these liturgical cycles there are two sermons whose contents are clearly anti-Jewish. The first, Sermo in diem circumcisionis domini (no. 9),178 which belongs to the cycle of Epiphany, begins with the quaestio related to the reason of why Jesus of Nazareth underwent the ritual of circumcision. The exegesis of the subject is oriented towards a purely spiritual interpretation, granting the meaning of the ‘amputation of moral evils’ to this Jewish rite and thus avoiding having to take into consideration the duplicitous survival of Jewish circumcision in the Christian world. The next part of the speech, drawn from sermon LXIII by Maximus of Turin, is linked to the first through the established opposition between circumcisio and incircumcisio in order to scorn Jewish and pagan festivities in contrast to holy Christian celebrations.179 The second sermon, Sermo in quinto dominico post octabas Pasche (no. 40),180 belonging to the Easter cycle, offers the vision of the resurrection of Jesus on Sunday as the only path that allows man to free himself from the sinful Jewish festivity of Saturdays. This liberation is presented as corresponding to the one received by the figure of the Good Thief who dies with the Saviour, whereas, paradoxically, the murderer Barabbas was freed due to the intervention of the Jews in exchange for the life of Jesus, which implicitly represents their condemnation.181 Within the framework of this liturgical situation, the preacher used this sermon to illustrate, for instance, the opposition between the Jewish Sabbath and the Christian Sunday. Once again, both texts could be used to warn the Christian people against the customs and religious prescriptions of Judaism. Likewise, the extensive use of hagiographic literature in Visigothic liturgy gave the tales of the martyrs, which would later on be compiled in the Spanish Passionary, a clearly homiletic use.182 Bat-Sheva Albert has pointed out that ‘the Christian ideal of personal sacrifice remained eternal indeed, but the Passionary also helped transmit more recent doctrinal messages that were still relevant in seventh-century Spain; thus, they contained anti-Arian formulas and, in what concerns the subject at hand, anti-Jewish formulas’.183 In most cases in which Jews are portrayed (Passio Eulaliae Emeritensis; Passio Vicenti, Sabine et Christete, and Passio Mantii), they are portrayed as

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agents of evil, as the instigators of the martyrdom to which innocent saints are cruelly subjected.184 The degrading image of Jews promoted by these texts which, being included in the liturgical cycle, were publicly read in churches may very well have become an effective means of teaching antiJewish polemics to Christian believers.185 On the other hand, over the course of the seventh century, preaching became the most appropriate and direct means of transmission of conciliar decisions to Christian people. For instance, one canon from the Sixteenth Council of Toledo (held in 693) specifically ordered the publication of the dispositions approved by the Fathers who had been assembled there: Grandis populo datur emendationis correctio, si gesta synodalia dum quandoque peragantur relatione pontificum in suis parrochiis publicantur. Et ideo plena decernimus unanimitate conexi, ut dum in qualibet provincia concilium agitatur, unusquisque episcoporum ammonitionibus suis infra sex mensium spacia omnes abbates presbyteres diacones atque clericos seu etiam omne conventum civitatis ipsius, ubi praese dinoscitur, necnon et cunctam diocesis suae plebem adgregare nequaquam moretur, quatenus coram eis publice omnia reserata de his, quae eodem anno in concilio acta vel definita extiterint, plenissime notiores efficiantur.186 It is a great correction and amendment for the people if the synodal records, once concluded, are published by the bishops in their dioceses. Thus, in full unanimity, we decree that whenever a council is held in a province, each bishop should hurry to gather all the abbots, presbyters, deacons and clerics, as well as the entire assembly of the city where his see is located by providing timely warning, within a period of six months. And he should likewise assemble the people of his diocese, so that he may publicly inform them of all that has been treated and decided in that year’s council. It is very likely that if this habit had been tacitly enforced previously, preaching would have been the main source of information on canon law for Christians; it is worth keeping in mind that an important part of this legislation was profoundly anti-Jewish,187 and the Sixteenth Council of Toledo, called by King Egica, was no exception.188 CONCLUSIONS Anti-Jewish polemics have accompanied Christian preaching from its very origins. As in other regions of the Roman Empire, the Church hierarchy in Hispania was opposed to contact between Christians and Jews due to the latent danger of Jewish contamination to which Christian communities were

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believed to be exposed. As it was almost impossible to convert Jews to the Catholic faith, Spanish bishops tried to establish clear boundaries between both communities through measures approved in local councils, such as the Council of Elvira, and, especially, through anti-Jewish preaching. As some Church Fathers, such as Gregory of Elvira, Patianus, and Severus of Minorca, would realize, the attachment (‘obstinate stubbornness’ to Christian eyes) that Jews felt towards their beliefs and customs prevented Christian preaching from causing any kind of impulse that would lead them to baptism. In spite of evidence that there was a delusional belief in Late Ancient and Visigothic Iberia in the alleged seductive power of preaching as an effective and immediate means of converting Jews (an assumption that would become widespread in the coming centuries), there is nothing that leads us to think that there were any Christian sermons meant for converting Jews.189 In fact, preaching in both Late Roman and Visigothic Hispania was exclusively meant for the Christian community, with the goal of reaffirming faith and educating believers in doctrine. Bishops such as Isidore of Seville, Ildefonsus of Toledo, and Julian of Toledo found preaching to be the ideal means to channel anti-Jewish polemics into the Christian people with warlike fervour. In an atmosphere of extreme distrust of nolens Jewish converts, who still practised Jewish rituals in secret, it is not surprising that, in Visigothic and even Late Roman literature, Christian preaching focused its attention on scorning the Synagogue as an institution that acted as a metonymy of the Jewish people,190 and on extremely harsh criticism of religious celebrations and Mosaic laws (such as Sabbath rest, circumcision, dietary rules, and Passover).

NOTES 1. Alexandre Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, Biblioteca Herder, 189 (Barcelona: Herder, 1991), pp. 38 and 44. 2. See Brigitte Beaujard, ‘L’évêque dans la cité en Gaule aux Ve et VIe siècles’, in La fin de la cité antique et le début de la cité médiévale. De la fin du IIIe siècle à l’avènement de Charlemagne, ed. by Claude Lepelley, Munera, 8 (Bari: Edipuglia, 1996), pp. 127–45 (pp. 129–32), and Elio Dovere, ‘Il vescovo “teodosiano” quale riferimento per la normazione “de fide” (secc. IV–V)’, ’Ilu, 1 (1996), 53–74 (pp. 54–55). 3. Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, p. 38. 4. Réginald Grégoire, ‘Gli omiliari liturgici’, Benedictina, 21 (1974), 3–28 (p. 11), and Roberto B. Eno, Teaching Authority in the Early Church (Wilmington, DE: Glazier, 1984), pp. 17–19. 5. See Vincenzo Loi, ‘La predicazione liturgico-didattica in età patristica’, Rivista Liturgica, 57 (1970), 632–40 (p. 640), and Michel Banniard, Communication écrite et communication orale du IVe au IXe siècle en Occident latin, Collections des Études Augustiniennes, Moyen Âge et Temps modernes, 25 (Paris: Institut des Études Augustiniennes, 1992), pp. 67–76 and 87–88. 6. For instance, the sermones of Maximus of Turin clearly reveal the audience to which they were addressed: mainly wealthy landowners, domini (Sermones,

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7.

8.

9. 10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

Raúl González Salinero 26), and civil servants of the imperial administration, such as soldiers (Sermones, 26. 1), tax collectors (18. 2), and iudices (26. 3). See Domenico Devoti, ‘Massimo di Torino e il suo pubblico’, Augustinianum, 21 (1981), 153–67 (p. 156 n. 7 and p. 163). Banniard, Communication écrite et communication orale, pp. 78–79, and Averil Cameron, Christianity and the Rhetoric of Empire: The Development of Christian Discourse, Sather Classical Lectures, 55 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), p. 130. Raymond Van Dam, Leadership and Community in Late Antique Gaul, Transformation of the Classical Heritage (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), pp. 72–73. According to Grégoire (‘Gli omiliari liturgici’, p. 11), the pre-eminence of bishops in preaching was motivated by the conservation of orthodoxy; in fact, this episcopal power implied a restriction on the interpretation of Scripture upon which homiletic activity was based. Van Dam, Leadership and Community, p. 133, and Cameron, Christianity and the Rhetoric of Empire, p. 79. During the fourth and fifth centuries, the clergy was structured into two overarching groups: the upper clergy (bishops, presbyters, and deacons) and the lower clergy, with a number of ranks that could vary between churches, the most common being subdeacon, acolyte, exorcist, ostiary, and reader (the rank of reader usually marked the beginning of an ‘ecclesiastical career’). See Enrique Contreras and Roberto Peña, El contexto histórico eclesial de los Padres Latinos (siglos IV–V) ([Luján, Argentina]: ECUAM, 1993), pp. 134–35. Augustine, Sermones, 137. 13. See Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, pp. 38 and 537; Contreras and Peña, El contexto histórico eclesial, p. 135; and Attilio Carpin, Sacramentalità dell’ordine, Sacra doctrina, 57: 2 (Bologna: Edizioni Studio Domenicano, 2012), p. 135. Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, pp. 540–47, and Francisco Javier Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’. El cultivo del género literario del ciscurso homilético en la Hispania tardoantigua y visigoda (Cáceres: Universidad de Extremadura, 1994), pp. 45–46 and 54. According to Jean Longère, presbyters and deacons would acquire a certain level of autonomy in the composition of their homiletic speeches only at the time of Caesarius of Arles; see Jean Longère, La Prédication médiévale (Paris: Études Augustiniennes, 1983), p. 16. See Adalbert Gauthier Hamman, ‘Saint Augustin et la formation du clergé en Afrique Chrétienne’, in Congresso Internazionale su s. Agostino nel XVI centenario della conversione, Studia ephemeridis ‘Augustinianum’, 24–26, 3 vols (Rome: Institutum Patristicum Augustinianum, 1987), II, 337–46 (p. 344). In fact, Christian pastors attempted to offer all possible resources to allow the illiterate people to ‘immunize’ themselves against the evil influence of Jews, pagans, and heretics through preaching. See Cameron, Christianity and the Rhetoric of Empire, p. 186. Council of Valencia (549), canon 1: ‘Sic enim pontificum praedicatione audita nonullus ad fidem adtractos euidenter scimus’. Even though sermons were considered highly important in mass, the concept of preaching required teaching or exhortation on religious truths; see Justo Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral en la España romanovisigoda (Rome: Iglesia Nacional Española, 1955), p. 397. Fourth Council of Toledo (633), canon 25: ‘Sciant igitur sacerdotes scripturas sanctas et canones, ut omne opus eorum in praedicatione et doctrina consistat, atque aedificent cunctos tam fidei scientia quam operum disciplina’. Cf. Second Council of Seville (619), canon 7. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, pp. 396–97, and Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, p. 441.

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16. Carpin, Sacramentalità dell’ordine, p. 197. 17. Epistula ad Leudefredum episcopum, 8. An edition of the text can be found in Roger E. Reynolds, ‘The “Isidorian” Epistula ad Leudefredum: Its Origins, Early Manuscript Tradition, and Editions’, in Visigothic Spain: New Approaches, ed. by Edward James (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980), pp. 251– 72 (pp. 269–72). See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 398. 18. Epistolae et decreta, 25 (Patrologia Latina, 63, col. 424): ‘Discere quis debet antequam doceat, et exemplum religiosae conversationis de se potius aliis praestare, quam sumere’. 19. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 46. 20. Licianus, Epist. I, 5. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 395, and Raúl González Salinero, ‘Ut nos iudaizare compellat. La responsabilidad episcopal de Liciniano de Cartago ante las influencias judaizantes’, in V Reunió d’Arqueologia Cristiana Hispànica, ed. by Josep M. Gurt and others (Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 2000), pp. 605–08 (pp. 607–08). 21. De eccl. off., II, 11. 1–2; Sent., III, 35. 1, 36. 1 (Tam doctrina quam uita clarare debet ecclesiasticus doctor), and III, 43–44. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, pp. 399–400; Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, p. 439; Buenaventura Delgado, ‘Pedagogos cristianos y sus escritos sobre educación’, in Historia de la acción educadora de la Iglesia en España, I. Edad Antigua, Media y Moderna, ed. by Bernabó B. Martínez (Madrid: BAC, 1995), pp. 158–74 (pp. 162–63); and Luca Montecchio, I Visigoti e la rinascita culturale del secolo VII, Techne, 2 (Perugia: Graphe.it, 2006), pp. 77–78. 22. VIII Council of Toledo, canon 8: ‘tanta nescientiae socordia plenos, ut nec illis prebentur instructi competenter ordinibus qui cotidianos uersantur in usus’. 23. Sent., III, 35. Cf. Taio, Sent., II, 33–34. See Montecchio, I Visigoti e la rinascita culturale, p. 79. 24. Jorge M. Pinel, ‘El oficio Hispánico-Visigótico’, Hispania Sacra, 20 (1957), 385–427. 25. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 55. 26. Loi, ‘La predicazione liturgico-didattica’, p. 639. 27. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, pp. 18–19. 28. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 26. 29. Raúl González Salinero, El antijudaísmo cristiano occidental (siglos IV–VI) (Madrid: Trotta, 2000), pp. 212–13. 30. Rosemary Radford Ruether, Faith and Fratricide: The Theological Roots of Anti-Semitism (Minneapolis: Seabury Press, 1974), p. 121. Cf. Clark M. Williamson and Ronald J. Allen, Interpreting Difficult Texts: Anti-Judaism and Christian Preaching (London: SCM Press, 1989), pp. 9–27. 31. Gregory Baum, ‘Salvation Is from the Jews: A Story of Prejudice’, in Disputation and Dialogue: Readings in the Jewish-Christian Encounter, ed. by Frank E. Talmage (New York: Ktav, 1975), pp. 313–19 (p. 314). 32. Rainer Kampling, ‘Die Darstellung der Juden und des Judentums in den Predigten des Zeno von Verona’, Kairos, 26 (1984), 16–27 (p. 23). 33. Quodvultdeus, Contr. Iud., I, 3–4. 34. Vincentius, Comm., XI, 3. 35. Loi, ‘La predicazione liturgico-didattica’, p. 636. 36. Luis García Iglesias, ‘Oscuro origen y avatares más antiguos de las comunidades judías en España’, in Memoria de Sefarad, ed. by Isidro Gonzalo Bango Torviso and others (Madrid: Sociedad Estatal para la Acción Cultural Exterior, 2002), pp. 31–41 (p. 32); Ramón Teja Casuso, ‘Exterae gentes: relaciones con paganos, judíos y herejes en los cánones de Elvira’, in El concilio de Elvira y su tiempo, ed. by Manual Sotomayor and José Fernández Ubiña (Granada: Universidad de Granada, 2005), pp. 197–228 (pp. 221–22); and Raúl González

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37.

38.

39.

40.

41. 42.

43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51.

52. 53. 54.

Raúl González Salinero Salinero, ‘Doctrina, disciplina y disuasión: la reacción eclesiástica ante la convivencia con los judíos en la Elvira del siglo IV’, in Propaganda y persuasión en el mundo romano, ed. by Gonzalo Bravo and Raúl González Salinero, Colección Monografías y Estudios de la Antigüedad Griega y Romana, 35 (Madrid: Signifer, 2011), pp. 279–93 (pp. 280–85). Gregory conceived his pastoral work as an essential obligation. He wrote, ‘quia necesse est, ut assiduo tractatu aliqua uobis per Dominum et fidei et scientiae incrementa praestentur [for it is essential that, through frequent preaching, the Lord should grant you an increase in your faith and knowledge]’. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, pp. 395. Raúl González Salinero, ‘Teodosio I, Hispania y los judíos’, in Congreso Internacional ‘La Hispania de Teodosio’, ed. by Ramón Teja and Cesáreo Pérez, 2 vols (Salamanca: Universidad Internacional SEK and Junta de Castilla y León, 1997), I, 99–109 (p. 106), and González Salinero, ‘Doctrina, disciplina y disuasión’, pp. 287–88. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 401; Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, pp. 424–28; and Andrés Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica de los escritores eclesiásticos hispanos. I: Siglos IV–V (Madrid: Aben Ezra, 2003), p. 163. Tractatus de libris sanctarum scripturarum, IV, 1: ‘Quia saepe nobis aduersum Iudaeos de circumcisione certamen est [Since we often debate with the Jews on circumcision]’. See González Salinero, ‘Teodosio I, Hispania y los judíos’, p. 106. Tract., VIII, 28. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 406. Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. I: Siglos IV–V, p. 167, and Andrés Barcala Muñoz, ‘La polémica antijudía en los Tractatus Origenis de Gregorio de Elvira’, in La controversia judeocristiana en España (Desde los orígenes hasta el siglo XIII). Homenaje a Domingo Muñoz León, ed. by Carlos del Valle Rodríguez, Serie B: Controversia, 11 (Madrid: CSIC, 1998), pp. 43–62 (pp. 50–51). In Cant., I, 6: ‘Nam ex quo Christus Filius Dei secundum hominem aduenire dignatus est et carnam animanque hominis uelut sponsam accepit, ex eo iam lex et prophetae cessauerunt’. Tract., II, 6, and III, 10 and 22. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 116; Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. I: Siglos IV–V, p. 166; and Barcala Muñoz, ‘La polémica antijudía en los Tractatus Origenis’, p. 49. Tract., XI, 32. See Joaquín Pascual Torró, Temas teológicos en Gregorio de Elvira (Madrid: Ciudad Nueva, 2010), p. 214. Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 406 n. 47. Tract., VIII, 3. Tract., VIII, 19–20. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 120; Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. I: Siglos IV–V, p. 172; and Barcala Muñoz, ‘La polémica antijudía en los Tractatus Origenis’, p. 55. Tract., IV, 17, and VIII, 19 (cf. IV, 15, 24–25, 29–30, and VIII, 20, 24). See Pascual Torró, Temas teológicos, pp. 212–14. Tract., IV, 2–3. Tract., IV, 28 (cf. also VIII, 9, 12, 18, and 30). See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 117; Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. I: Siglos IV–V, p. 168; and Barcala Muñoz, ‘La polémica antijudía en los Tractatus Origenis’, p. 53. Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. I: Siglos IV–V, p. 175, and Barcala Muñoz, ‘La polémica antijudía en los Tractatus Origenis’, p. 57. Tract., VI, 61. In Cant., II, 2.

Preaching and Jews in Iberia 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70.

71. 72.

73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81.

82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89.

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Tract., III, 21, and XIII, 10–11. Tract., III, 21. Tract., V, 19–22; In Cant., II, 17. Tract., XIII, 5. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 118, and Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. I: Siglos IV–V, pp. 167 and 174. Tract., II, 18; VI, 9, 20, 26. See Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. I: Siglos IV–V, p. 169, and Barcala Muñoz, ‘La polémica antijudía en los Tractatus Origenis’, pp. 53–54. Tract., III, 6–8 and 12. Tract., III, 28. In Cant., I, 18, 28; II, 21; Tract., XI, 24. Tract., II, 6; V, 25; VI, 5, 32, 42; VIII, 28; XI, 9; XIII, 17–18; and XVI, 19, 23–25. De div. gen., 3. González Salinero, ‘Teodosio I, Hispania y los judíos’, pp. 106–07. Tract., VI, 24 (cf. III, 25 and 27). Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, pp. 130–33. In cant., II, 17. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 106. Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, p. 428; Juan Carlos Sánchez León, ‘Los sermones del obispo Potamio de Lisboa’, Espacio, Tiempo y Forma. Historia Antigua, 11 (1998), 501–21; and Anna Maria C. M. Jorge, L’épiscopat de Lusitanie pendant l’Antiquité tardive (IIIe–VIIe siècles), Trabalhos de Arqueologia, 21 (Lisbon: Instituto Português de Arqueologia, 2002), pp. 102–09. Raúl González Salinero, ‘Exégesis antiarriana y polémica antijudía en Potamio de Lisboa’, Annali di Storia dell’Essegesi, 22 (2005), 465–77 (pp. 476–77). Tract. de subst., 1–2: ‘Soleo, fratres, soleo ut ipsi scitis et ego non nescio secreta legis intrare [I usually do, brothers, I usually do, like you say and I do not ignore getting inside the Law’s secrets]’. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, pp. 99 and 103. Tract. de subst., 92–103, 109–125. See González Salinero, ‘Exégesis antiarriana y polémica antijudía’, pp. 471–72. De mart. Isaiae, 1–9. González Salinero, ‘Exégesis antiarriana y polémica antijudía’, p. 473. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 402, and Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, pp. 429–31. Simpronian was a theologian who followed the heresy of Novatian. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 138. Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 396. Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 408. Patianus, De bapt., II, 3: ‘Quae igitur spes homini? Sine lege ideo periit, quia peccatum uidere non potuit; et in lege ideo, quia in id ipsum, quod uidebat, incurrit [What hope, therefore, was there for man? Without the Law he was lost, for he could not know sin; and he was also lost with the Law, for he incurred in the same sins he already knew]’. Patianus, De bapt., VI, 3. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 141. Patianus, De bapt., IV, 1–4. Patianus, De bapt., VI, 2–3. Patianus, Epist., III, 13. 4–6. Patianus, De paen., IV, 3. Patianus, Epist., III, 8. 4. González Salinero, ‘Teodosio I, Hispania y los judíos’, p. 107. De paen., II, 2.

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90. Patianus, Epist., III, 8. 2: ‘frustra me possuisse asseris illud exemplum, quod Deus dixerit’. 91. Severus, Epist., IV, 4. 92. Severus, Epist., V, 1–2. 93. Severus, Epist., XIII, 12–13. 94. Severus, Epist., XVIII and XXVI–XXVIII. 95. See Raúl González Salinero, ‘Relaciones sociales y dependencia religiosa en la comunidad judía de Mahón (Menorca) a principios del siglo V d. C.’, ARYS. Antigüedad: Religiones y Sociedades, 3 (2000), 267–77, and Josep Amengual i Batle, Judíos, católicos y herejes: el microcosmos balear de Seuerus de Menorca, Consentius y Orosius (413–321) (Granada: Universidad de Granada-Universidat de Les Illes Balears-Institut Menorquí d’Estudis, 2008), pp. 117–27. 96. Severus, Epist., III, 6–7. 97. Severus, Epist., XII, 4–6. 98. Severus, Epist., XII, 9–10. See Amengual i Batle, Judíos, católicos y herejes, pp. 90–91. 99. Eleazar D. Hunt, ‘St. Stephen in Minorca. An Episode in Jewish-Christian Relations in the Early 5th Century A.D.’, Journal of Theological Studies, 33 (1982), 106–23 (pp. 109–10). 100. Severus, Epist., XVI, 3 (cf. XIX, 9). 101. See Raúl González Salinero, ‘Los sueños como revelación y corrección de la maldad judaica en la Antigüedad tardía’, in Sueños, ensueños y visiones en la Antigüedad pagana y cristiana, ed. by Ramón Teja, Codex Aquilarensis, 18 (Aguilar de Campoo, Palencia: Fundación Santa María la Real, 2002), pp. 95–113 (pp. 108–10), and Amengual i Batle, Judíos, católicos y herejes, pp. 127–31. 102. Severus, Epist., X, 6. 103. Severus, Epist., XXXI, 2–3. See Amengual i Batle, Judíos, católicos y herejes, pp. 93 and 162–163. 104. De symbolo III in Patrologia Latina, 39, cols 2187–88. 105. See Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 159. 106. Teófilo Ayuso Marazuela, ‘Un apócrifo español del siglo sexto de probable origen judeo-cristiano’, Sefarad, 4 (1944), 3–29. 107. Licinian, Epist., III, 2: ‘[I]deo novus iste predicator hoc dicit, ut nos iudaizare compellat’. See Ayuso Marazuela, ‘Un apócrifo español del siglo sexto’, p. 15. 108. Licinian, Epist., III, 1: ‘Sed in id non minime contristati sumus, quod litteras cuiusdam, quas ad nos direxistis, sicut tue indicant littere, susceperis, et de tribunali populis eas feceris adnunciari’. 109. Licinian, Epist., III, 4. See González Salinero, ‘Ut nos iudaizare compellat’, p. 69. 110. Amengual i Batle, Judíos, católicos y herejes, p. 173. 111. Licianus, Epist., III, 2. 112. Licinian, Epist., III, 2. 113. González Salinero, ‘Ut nos iudaizare compellat’, p. 608. 114. Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, pp. 434–35 and 440. 115. Paul Séjourné, Le dernier père de l’Église. Saint Isidore de Séville: son rôle dans l’histoire du droit canonique (Paris: Gabriel Beauchesne, 1929), p. 172. 116. Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 405, and Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, p. 434. 117. Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, p. 441, and Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, pp. 46 and 87–88. 118. Vita s. Caesarii, I, 41–42. 119. Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 403, and Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 88.

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120. Epistula ad Protasium Tarraconensem episcopum: ‘missam uero uotiuam ideo non scripsi [. . .] recolo iam dixisse’. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 304, and Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 221. 121. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 219. 122. Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 405. 123. On the so-called ‘conversion sermons’ from the medieval period, see Samuel Krauss, The Jewish-Christian Controversy from the Earliest Times to 1789. I: History, ed. and rev. by William Horbury, Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum, 56 (Tübingen: Mohr, 1995), pp. 186–97. 124. Severus, Epist., XII, 11. See Hunt, ‘St. Stephen in Minorca’, pp. 109–10. 125. On this last aspect, see Rachel L. Stocking, Bishops, Councils, and Consensus in the Visigothic Kingdom, 589–633 (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2000), p. 67. 126. Aurasius, Epist., 6–15. See Raúl González Salinero, Las conversiones forzosas de los judíos en el reino visigodo (Rome: CSIC, 2000), p. 86; Alexander P. Bronisch, Die Judengesetzgebung im katholischen Westgotenreich von Toledo, Forschungen zur Geschichte der Juden A: Abhandlungen, 17 (Hanover: Hahnsche Buchhandlung, 2005), pp. 30–31; and Raúl González Salinero, ‘Froga?, s. m. s. VI—p. t. s. VII. Conde (comes) de Toledo’, in Diccionario Biográfico Español. XX: Ferrero Llusiá-Furnius Iulianus, ed. by Quintín Aldea Vaquero and others (Madrid: Real Academia de la Historia, 2009), pp. 708– 09 (p. 708). 127. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, pp. 264–265, and Wolfram Drews, The Unknown Neighbour: The Jew in the Thought of Isidore of Seville, Medieval Mediterranean, 59 (Leiden: Brill, 2006), p. 32 n. 122. 128. See Stocking, Bishops, Councils, and Consensus, p. 138. 129. Charles Journet, Destinées d’Israël. A propos du salut par les Juifs (Paris: Egloff, 1945), p. 324. 130. Isidore of Seville, De fide cath., II, 4, 1; II, 5, 1–9; Quaest. in Vet. Test.: in Gen., XIV, 5 (Patrologia Latina, 83, col. 243); Quaest. in Vet. Test.: in Iud., VI, 5 (Patrologia Latina, 83, col. 387); Taio, Sent., V, 25; and Ildefonsus of Toledo, De virg., IV, 402. See Aarthus Lukyn Williams, Adversus Judaeos: A Bird’s-Eye View of Christian Apologiae until the Renaissance (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1935), p. 217; Juan Gil, ‘Judíos y cristianos en la Hispania del s. VII’, Hispania Sacra, 16 (1977), 9–110 (p. 54); Heinz Schreckenberg, Die christlichen Adversus-Judaeos-Texte und ihr literarisches und historisches Umfeld (1–11. Jh.) (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1995), p. 441; Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, p. 150; and Eva Castro Caridad and Francisco Peña Fernández, Isidoro de Sevilla. Sobre la fe católica contra los judíos (Seville: Universidad de Sevilla, 2012), p. 35. 131. Julian of Toledo, De comprob., I, 12. 36–39. See González Salinero, Las conversiones forzosas, p. 123. 132. Isidore, Quaest. in Vet. Test. in I Reg., II, 7 (Patrologia Latina, 83, col. 354). 133. See Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, p. 228. 134. Castro Caridad and Peña Fernández, Isidoro de Sevilla, p. 41. According to Drews (The Unknown Neighbour, pp. 218–19), Isidore’s lack of interest in the Judaism of his time is evidence of the fact that he did not consider preaching the Gospel to the Jews to be important, as their true conversion would take place only in an eschatological future. Cf. Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, p. 33. 135. Castro Caridad and Peña Fernández, Isidoro de Sevilla, p. 31. 136. Gil, ‘Judíos y cristianos en la Hispania del s. VII’, p. 45. 137. Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, p. 135. Cf. Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, p. 117: ‘It is certainly not unreasonable to suggest that it [De fide catholica contra Iudaeos] was also used for reference by priests who prepared their sermons’. Cf. Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, pp. 167–68. On the

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138. 139. 140.

141. 142.

143. 144.

145. 146. 147. 148.

149. 150. 151. 152.

Raúl González Salinero subject of this anti-Jewish work, Jacques Fontaine stated that ‘this compilation of quotes and polemic exegesis, written with a frequently oratory tone, probably resembles its fourth-century patristic sources in thought and style, but it also resembles the Spanish anti-Jewish sermons of the period’. ‘Isidore de Séville pédagogue et théoricien de l’exégèsis’, in Stimuli. Exegese und ihre Hermeneutik in Antike und Christentum: Festschrift für Ernst Dassmann, ed. by Georg Schöllgen and Clemens Scholten, Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum: Ergänzungsband, 23 (Münster: Aschendorffsche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1996), pp. 423–34 (p. 433). Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, p. 34. Drews, The Unknown Neighbour, pp. 135–136 and 309–310. In his Renotatio librorum domini Isidori (5–7), Braulius of Saragossa emphasizes the skill Isidore possessed to adapt his rhetorical style to the audience to which he directed his theological or pastoral speeches: ‘Vir in omni loquutionis genere formatus, ut inperito doctoque secundum qualitatem sermonis existeret aptus, congrua uero opportunitate loci incomparabili eloquentia clarus [He was a learned man in all levels of discourse, to the point that his mastery of language delighted rustics and erudites alike and, when the occasion required it, he shone with incomparable eloquence]’. Cf. Ildefonsus of Toledo, De vir. ill., 8. 1–5. Dominique Poirel, ‘Un manuel d’exégèse spirituelle au service des prédicateurs: les Allegoriae d’Isidore de Séville’, Recherches Augustiniennes, 33 (2003), 95–107 (pp. 99 and 101–03). As Poirel (‘Un manuel d’exégèse spirituelle’, p. 107) states, ‘the Allegoriae were conceived by the author as an instrument in the service of preaching, a vade mecum of sorts, meant to help ordinary clergymen to compose their Sunday homilies’. Poirel, ‘Un manuel d’exégèse spirituelle’, p. 107. Manuel C. Díaz y Díaz, ‘Introducción general’, in San Isidoro de Sevilla. Etimologías, ed. by José Oroz Reta and Manuel A. Marcos Casquero, Biblioteca des autores cristianos, 433–34, 2 vols (Madrid: BAC, 1982), I, 1–257 (pp. 109–10), and José Carlos Martín, La Renotatio librorum domini Isidori de Braulio de Zaragoza († 651) (Logroño: Fundación San Millán de la Cogolla, 2002), p. 270 n. 6. De fide cath., 18–50. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 206. II Timothy 2. 25–26. See Raúl González Salinero, ‘Catholic Anti-Judaism in Visigothic Spain’, in The Visigoths: Studies in Culture and Society, ed. by Alberto Ferreiro, Medieval Mediterranean Series, 20 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), pp. 123–50 (pp. 137–38); González Salinero, Las conversiones forzosas, p. 49; and Alberto Ferreiro, ‘St. Braulio of Zaragoza’s Letter 21 to Pope Honorius I Regarding Lapsed Baptized Jews’, Sacris Erudiri, 48 (2009), 75–95 (pp. 84 and 92). Cf. Ángel Riesco Terrero, ‘El problema judío en mente de tres importantes personajes del siglo VII: un papa, un obispo y un rey visigodo’, Espacio, Tiempo y Forma. Historia Antigua, 6 (1993), 585–604 (p. 598). Braulius, Epist., XXI, 37–46. Braulius, Epist., XXI: ‘[L]ocis oportunis et censuram propter transgressores edidimus et debitum predicationis officium non tacuimus’. Ferreiro, ‘St. Braulio of Zaragoza’s Letter’, p. 84. Ferreiro, ‘St. Braulio of Zaragoza’s Letter’, p. 90. Cf. Jaime Colomina Torner, ‘El antijudaísmo hispanogodo y sus posibles ecos en los textos litúrgicos e ildefonsinos’, in La controversia judeocristiana en España (Desde los orígenes hasta el siglo XIII). Homenaje a Domingo Muñoz León, ed. by Carlos del Valle Rodríguez (Madrid: CSIC, 1998), pp. 171–90 (p. 188).

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153. De cogn. bapt., 17–18. See González Salinero, Las conversiones forzosas, p. 125. 154. De virg., IV, 457–468. See Carlos del Valle Rodríguez, ‘El tratado de la virginidad perpetua de Santa María de San Ildefonso de Toledo’, in La controversia judeocristiana en España (desde los orígenes hasta el siglo XIII). Homenaje a Domingo Muñoz León, ed. by Carlos del Valle Rodríguez (Madrid: CSIC, 1998), pp. 115–18 (p. 118). 155. Laureano Robles Carcedo, ‘Tajón de Zaragoza, continuador de Isidoro’, Saitabi, 21 (1971), 19–25. 156. Carmen Codoñer Merino and others, La Hispania visigótica y mozárabe. Dos épocas en su literatura, Obras de referencia, 28 (Salamanca: Universidad de Salamanca-Universidad de Extremadura, 2010), p. 199. Cf. Andrés Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica de los escritores eclesiásticos hispanos. II: Siglos VI–VII: el reino visigodo de Toledo (Madrid: Aben Ezra, 2005), pp. 525–26. 157. Taio, Sent., II, 37. 158. Taio, Sent. II, 32 (Patrologia Latina, 80, col. 821d): ‘ut pastoris bonum quod vivendo ostenditur, etiam loquendo propagetur’. See Elena Conde Guerri, ‘Tajón de Zaragoza y su tradición doctrinal sobre los pastores animarum’, Aragón en la Edad Media, 14–15 (1999), 329–39 (p. 330). 159. Taio, Sent., II, 32 (Patrologia Latina, 80, col. 822a). See Conde Guerri, ‘Tajón de Zaragoza y su tradición doctrinal’, p. 331. 160. Taio, Sent., II, 34 (Patrologia Latina, 80, col. 827a): ‘Sit rector bene agentibus per humilitatem socius, contra delinquentium vitia per zelum iustitiae erectus’. Cf. Taio, Sent., II, 35 (Patrologia Latina, 80, col. 829a). See Conde Guerri, ‘Tajón de Zaragoza y su tradición doctrinal’, pp. 335–36. 161. Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. II: Siglos VI–VII, pp. 533–35. 162. Taio, Sent., II, 4 (Patrologia Latina, 80, col. 778d–79a). See Carlos del Valle Rodríguez, ‘Tajón de Zaragoza (ca. 600–680)’, in La controversia judeocristiana en España (desde los orígenes hasta el siglo XIII). Homenaje a Domingo Muñoz León, ed. by Carlos del Valle Rodríguez (Madrid: CSIC, 1998), pp. 111–14 (p. 114). 163. Taio, Sent. I, 40. See Barcala Muñoz, Biblioteca antijudaica. II: Siglos VI–VII, pp. 534–35. 164. González Salinero, Las conversiones forzosas, pp. 81–85. 165. Taio, Sent., I, 40 (Patrologia Latina, 80, cols 774d–775a). Cf. Taio, Sent., II, 4 (Patrologia Latina, 80, col. 779c). 166. González Salinero, ‘Catholic Anti-Judaism in Visigothic Spain’, pp. 132–35. 167. Antik., I, 31. See Raúl González Salinero, ‘Un antecedente: la persecución contra los judíos en el reino visigodo’, in El Antisemitismo en España, ed. by Gonzalo Álvarez Chillida (Cuenca: Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, 2007), pp. 57–88 (p. 81). 168. Schreckenberg, Die christlichen Adversus-Judaeos-Texte, p. 460. 169. See González Salinero, ‘Un antecedente’, pp. 81–83. 170. De comprob., Praef., 42–44: ‘Vbi enim de deo uel contra deum aliquid agitur, periculosum est pastori si taceat; infame si fugiat; mortiferum si succumbat’. See Carlos del Valle, ‘San Julián de Toledo’, in La controversia judeocristiana en España (desde los orígenes hasta el siglo XIII). Homenaje a Domingo Muñoz León, ed. by Carlos del Valle Rodríguez (Madrid: CSIC, 1998), pp. 119–30 (p. 123). 171. Raúl Pozas Garza, Estudio crítico de los tratados ‘adversus Iudaeos’ en la Alta Edad Media (Rome: Pontificium Athenaeum Sanctae Crucis, 1996), p. 101. 172. Julianus of Toledo, De comprob., I, 5–8: ‘non solum ipsi barathro detestabilis perfidiae concidunt, sed etiam quosdam e fidelium numero titubare compellunt [they not only plunge themselves into hell because of their detestable perfidy, but also they cause doubts among faithful Christians]’, and II, 14–15.

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173. Del Valle Rodríguez, ‘San Julián de Toledo’, p. 124. 174. See Jean Longère, ‘La prédication et l’instruction des fidèles selon les conciles et les status synodaux depuis l’antiquité tardive jusqu’au XIIIe siècle’, in L’encadrement religieux des fidèles au Moyen Âge et jusqu’au Concile de Trente: la paroisse, le clergé, la pastorale, la devotion, ed. by Comité des travaux historiques et scientifiques, Actes du 109e Congrès National des Sociétés Savantes, Section d’histoire médievale et de philologie, 109: 1 (Paris: Ministère de l’Education Nationale, 1985), pp. 391–418 (p. 412); Olivar, La predicación cristiana antigua, pp. 441–42; and Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, pp. 95 and 269. 175. Also known as the Homiliario de Silos (the twelfth-century copy was made in Silos, Burgos) and now housed in London at the British Museum (Add. 30.853). 176. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 237. 177. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 243. 178. Edited and published in Réginald Grégoire, Les homéliaires du Moyen Âge. Inventaire et analyse des manuscrits, Rerum ecclesiasticarum documenta, Series maior: Fontes, 6 (Rome: Herder, 1966), pp. 197–99. 179. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 245. 180. Edited and published in Grégoire, Les homéliaires du Moyen Âge, pp. 206–07. 181. According to Tovar Paz (‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, p. 250), ‘The use of paradox has been noted in previous paragraphs as a formula through which the author of the speech—who was also possibly the compiler of the Toledan homiliary—balanced the liturgical situation and the subjects of every speech by drafting texts that are typologically homiliae’. 182. Tovar Paz, ‘Tractatus, sermones atque homiliae’, pp. 222–32. 183. Bat-Sheva Albert, ‘Le judaïsme et les Juifs dans l’hagiographie et la liturgie visigothique’, in ‘De Sion exibit lex et verbum domini de Hierusalem’: Essays on Medieval Law, Liturgy and Literature in Honour of Amnon Linder, ed. by Yitzhak Hen, Cultural Encounters in Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2001), pp. 17–41 (p. 22). 184. Pedro Castillo Maldonado, nevertheless, believes that the presence of Jews in Visigothic hagiography was relatively scarce when compared to the aggressive anti-Jewish measures promoted by civil and religious authorities. See Pedro Castillo Maldonado, ‘Judíos, conversos y relapsos en la hagiografía narrativa tardoantigua hispana’, Studia Historica. Historia Antigua, 24 (2006), 185–203. 185. Albert, ‘Le judaïsme et les Juifs’, pp. 22–23. 186. Sixteenth Council of Toledo, canon 7. See Fernández Alonso, La cura pastoral, p. 414. 187. Amnon Linder, The Jews in the Legal Sources of the Early Middle Ages (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1997), pp. 484–538. 188. Linder, The Jews in the Legal Sources of the Early Middle Ages, pp. 521–29. 189. The interpretation of the figure of the Jew through several vocative sequences of the same type as Iudaee (Tract., VIII, 28) is a purely rhetorical device; it is sometimes stated that ‘the Jew might answer . . .’ (Tract., VIII, 6: ‘respondere poterit Iudaeus’), or ‘however, you will doubtless say . . .’ (Tract., IV, 12: ‘sed dicis mihi’), a sign that the Jew was not in the presence of the preacher to do so at that moment in time. 190. Raúl González Salinero, ‘Judíos sin sinagoga en la Hispania tardorromana y visigoda’, in Marginados sociales y religiosos en la Hispania tardorromana y visigoda, ed. by Raúl González Salinero, Thema Mundi, 5 (Madrid: Signifer, 2013), pp. 193–219.

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Hom. Tol. =

Ildefonsus, De virg.=

Caesarius Arelatensis, Vita sancti Caesarii episcopi Arelatensis. Edition: Sancti Caesarii episcopi opera omnia, ed. by Germain Morin, 2 vols (Bruges: Maretioli, 1937–42), II (1942), 296–345. Conciliae Galliae. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 148, ed. by Charles Munier (Turnhout: Brepols, 1963); Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 148A, ed. by Carlo de Clercq (Turnhout: Brepols, 1963); and I canoni dei concili della Chiesa antica, II. I concili laini. 2. I concili gallici, ed. and translated into Italian by Rossana Barcellona, Mario Spinelli, and Pietrina Pellegrini, Studia Ephemeridis Augustinianum, 119, 122, 2 vols (Rome: Institutum Patristicum Augustinianum, 2010–11). Collectio Canonica Hispana. Edition: La Colección Canónica Hispana, IV–VI, ed. by Gonzalo Martínez Díez and Félix Rodríguez (Madrid: CSIC, 1984– 2002), and Concilios visigóticos e hispano-romanos, ed. and translated into Spanish by José Vives, Tomás Marín Martínez, and Gonzalo Martínez Díez, España cristiana: Textos, 1 (Barcelona: [s.n.], 1963). Eugenius Toletanus, Epistula ad Protasium episcopum Tarraconensem. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 114, ed. by Paulo F. Alberto (Turnhout: Brepols, 2005), pp. 406–07. Gregorius Illiberitanus, Tractatus Originis de libris sacrorum scripturarum. Edition: Gregorio de Elvira. Tratados sobre los libros de las Santas Escrituras, ed. and translated into Spanish by Joaquín Pascual Torró (Madrid: Ciudad Nueva, 1997). Gregorius Illiberitanus, In Canticum canticorum. Edition: Gregorio de Elvira. Comentario al cantar de los cantares y otros tratados exegéticos, ed. and translated into Spanish by Joaquín Pascual Torró (Madrid: Ciudad Nueva, 2000). Gregorius Illiberitanus, De diversis generibus leprarum (dubium). Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 69, ed. by Vinzenz Bulhart (Turnhout: Brepols, 1967), pp. 279–83. Homiliae Toletanae. Edition: Les homéliaires du Moyen Âge. Inventaire et analyse des manuscrits, ed. by Réginald Grégoire (Rome: Herder, 1966), pp. 197– 230. Ildefonsus Toletanus, De virginitate perpetua Sanctae Mariae. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 114A, ed. by Valeriano Yarza Urquiola (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), pp. 145–264.

Ildefonsus, De cogn. bapt. =

Ildefonsus Toletanus, De cognitione baptismi et De itinere deserti. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 114A, ed. by Valeriano Yarza Urquiola (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), pp. 345–471. Ildefonsus, De vir. ill. = Ildefonsus Toletanus, De viris illustribus. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 114A, ed. by Carmen Codoñer Merino (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007) pp. 597–616. Isidorus, Alleg. = Isidorus Hispalensis, Allegoriae quaedam sacre scripturae. Edition: Patrologia Latina, 83, cols 97– 130. Isidorus, De eccl. off. = Isidorus Hispalensis, De ecclesiasticis officiis. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 113, ed. by Christopher M. Lawson (Turnhout: Brepols, 1989), pp. 1–108. Isidorus, De fide cath. = Isidorus Hispalensis, De fide catholica ex veteri et novo testamento contra Iudaeos. Edition: Patrologia Latina, 83, cols 97–130. Isidorus, Quaest. Vet. Isidorus Hispalensis, Quaestiones in Vetus Testamentum. Test. = Edition: Patrologia Latina, 83, cols 207–424. Isidorus, Sent. = Isidorus Hispalensis, Sententiae. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 111, ed. by Pierre Cazier (Turnhout: Brepols, 1998), pp. 1–330. Iulianus, De comprob. = Iulianus Toletanus, De comprobatione sextae aetatis libri tres. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 115, ed. by Jocelyn Nigel Hillgarth (Turnhout: Brepols, 1976), pp. 141–212. Iulianus, Antik. = Iulianus Toletanus, Antikeimenon libri duo. Edition: Patrologia Latina, 96, cols 595–704. Licianus, Epist. = Licinianus Carthaginensis, Epistulae. Edition: Liciniano de Cartagena y sus cartas. Edición crítica y estudio histórico, ed. by José Madoz (Madrid: Facultades de Teología y Filosofía del Colegio Máximo de Oña, 1948). Maximus, Serm. = Maximus Taurinensis, Sermones. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 23, ed. by Almut Mutzenbecher (Turnhout: Brepols, 1962). Patianus, De paen.; Pacianus Barcinonensis, Opera quae extant (De De bapt.; Epist. = paenitentibus; De baptismo; Epistulae; Contra tractatus nouatianorum). Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 68A, ed. by Angel Anglada Anfruns (Turnhout: Brepols, 2012), pp. 1–153. Potamius,De mart. Potamius Olisiponensis, De martyrio Esaiae prophetae. Isaiae = Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 69A, ed. by Marco Conti (Turnhout: Brepols, 1999), pp. 197–203. (Continued)

Potamius,Tract. de subst. =

Quodvultdeus,Contr. iud. =

Severus, Epist. =

Taio, Sent. = Vincentius, Comm. =

Potamius Olisiponensis, Tractatus de substantia Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 69A, ed. by Marco Conti (Turnhout: Brepols, 1999), pp. 205–63. Quodvultdeus Carthaginensis, Contra Iudaeos, Paganos et Arrianos. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 60, ed. by René Braun (Turnhout: Brepols, 1976), pp. 225–58. Severus Minoricensis, Epistula de conversione Iudaeorum apud Minorcam insulam meritis sancti Stephani facta (epistula ad omnem Ecclesiam). Edition: Severus of Minorca. Letter on the Conversion of the Jews, ed. and trans. by Scott Bradbury (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996). Taio Caesaraugustanus, Sententiarum libri quinque. Edition: Patrologia Latina, 80, cols 727–990. Vincentius Lirinensis, Commonitorium. Edition: Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, 64, ed. by Roland Demeulenaere (Turnhout: Brepols, 1985), pp. 147–95.

3

Sub Iudaica Infirmitate—‘Under the Jewish Weakness’1 Jews in Medieval German Sermons Regina D. Schiewer

In the German-speaking area we encounter a rich tradition of vernacular sermons, right from the very beginning of vernacular literacy.2 The tradition starts in the eighth and ninth centuries with Old High German sermons, which are mostly translations of homilies by the Church Fathers, and continues with sermons of the monastic orders in the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries. The preaching of the friars and the developing religious mass movements in the first half of the thirteenth century raised the sermon to the status of a mass medium in the German-speaking countries.3 All the German sermons that have come down to us are literary sermons, in the sense that they are texts that were either written down or, less often, authorized by their preachers. There are no reportationes taken down by individuals as they listened to the sermon, and only a very few manuscripts contain sermon excerpts concentrating on different ‘points’ (punte) of the sermon that the listener deemed noteworthy. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries especially, we encounter an increasing number of sermon collections compiled by nuns. Often these compilations represent the work of one preacher who was also the nuns’ father confessor, or they assemble sermons preached over a certain period in the same convent, or in the same city. Alternatively, the criterion for the compilation may be a specific subject, like the Passion of Christ, or a popular saint, such as John the Evangelist or Mary Magdalene. The vast majority of these compilations originated in the convents of Dominican nuns. Confined within the strict enclosure of their convents, the Dominican nuns nevertheless apparently continued their brothers’ vocation to preach and spread the word of God in the world: by copying sermons, forming compilations, and disseminating those collections by lending the manuscripts to other convents as well as to private individuals. In addition to the many Germanlanguage sermon collections that served as model sermons and preaching tools, such as the thirteenth-century ‘Schwarzwälder Predigten [Schwarzwald sermons]’, and the postils and plenaries of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, these convent sermons form the bulk of the sermon transmission from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century. As yet, only a few of these collections and compilations have been published.

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In the 1970s, Karin Morvay and Dagmar Grube published a bibliography of those medieval German sermons that were available in print. They listed 228 sermon collections, transmitted anonymously or under the name of a preacher, of which at least one sermon had been printed by 1974. Sometimes one of those 228 entries may represent a single sermon; sometimes—as in the case of Master Eckhart—it may stand for a collection, or even an author’s entire oeuvre, containing over a hundred sermons. The indices at the end of the volume list more than a thousand different Latin incipits and nearly a thousand German incipits. Whereas the German incipits are mostly specific to only one sermon, the Latin incipits are often taken from the readings appointed for the Sundays or feast days of the church year, so we sometimes find ten or more different sermons with the same incipit. This means we are speaking about approximately three thousand edited German-language sermons from between the Carolingian period and the Reformation. Few sermon editions have been published since 1974. Given the vast amount of material not yet available in print, especially from the fifteenth century, the new editions since 1974 contribute only slightly to our knowledge of medieval German sermons. If we bear in mind the hundreds of fifteenth-century manuscripts from women’s convents that have not yet been properly examined, it becomes clear that our knowledge of medieval German sermons is still extremely limited. It is by no means an exaggeration, then, to estimate the number of surviving German sermons at over twelve thousand. This state of research has to be taken into account in attempting to give a general view of the way the subject of Jews is treated in the German sermon of the Middle Ages. Against the background of the huge mass of texts that have come down to us, we can investigate only small sections of the transmission. As yet few studies have examined the attitude to Jews in German-language sermons.4 All these studies confine themselves to published material, which means they focus mainly on sermons from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.5 In his studies, the historian Gunnar Mikosch reaches the conclusion that German-language sermons of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries do not reveal open anti-Judaism, but certainly show an anti-Jewish mentality.6 Mikosch demonstrates this convincingly in the case of the early German sermon—that is, sermons predating the mendicant movement that have come down to us in the form of model sermons. Mikosch’s research into thirteenth-century sermons, however, is less comprehensive, and his conclusions regarding the Jewish issue are consequently less systematic and less convincing. And yet, due to the emergence of the mendicant orders, precisely the thirteenth century witnessed an explosive growth in the number of German-language sermons. With this in mind, I take the mendicant sermons as my starting point and investigate anti-Judaism in German sermons from this point onwards. I have specifically selected a number of individual collections and preachers as being representative of a given sermon form or of sermons oriented towards a given target group. As relatively few medieval

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German sermons are available in good modern editions, I include as much previously unpublished material as possible in my discussion in order to contribute to a broader knowledge base about the image of Jews in latemedieval religious literature in German.7 First of all, I will focus in detail on the ‘St. Georgener Predigten [St Georgen sermons]’ and the ‘Schwarzwälder Predigten [Schwarzwald sermons]’; together with the sermons attributed to Berthold of Regensburg, these constitute the most extensive German sermon collections of the thirteenth century. In the second section, the resulting observations will be systematized and formulated as hypotheses. In the third section, these hypotheses will be tested in the case of sermon material from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. JEWS IN THE SERMON COLLECTIONS OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY In his analysis of the ‘St. Georgener Predigten’, which were composed in Cistercian circles, Gunnar Mikosch establishes that the Jews do not play any role in the sermons, and that even in those cases where Jews are mentioned in the Bible texts the sermons aim to explicate, and the authors of the sermons do not depict them.8 This observation needs to be differentiated somewhat. The new edition of the ‘St. Georgener Predigten’—based on the oldest manuscript of the collection, which simultaneously represents the oldest branch of the transmission—shows that the anti-Judaistic9 stance familiar from the early days of the German-language sermon does indeed emerge at least once in this collection.10 The sermon in question concerns the various types of contemplation of God. In this context, the preacher indicates that the believer should gaze upon the martyred son of God and contemplate his suffering, and points out that St Bernard expounded on this in a letter he wrote to a certain cardinal. The passages presented as quotations from this letter are compiled from the ‘Stimulus amoris’ of Ekbert of Schönau, which was attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux. One of the passages in question is the following paraphrase of a section of the ‘Stimulus’:11 o

‘Sehint’, sprichit er, ‘wie er sin crúce selbe truch, da er den bittiren tot an liden wolte. Sehint’, sprichit er ‘swie sin minniclichis antlivte, daz schoˇ ne antlivte, daz die engil allizan geroton anzesehinne vnde daz siv elliv zit o unvirdrozinliche ansehint, daz raine antlúte daz wart angespuwin mit deme unrainen vnde mit deme smekindin spaichil der iudon.12 ‘See’, he [Bernard] says, ‘how he himself carried his cross, on which he was prepared to suffer bitter death. See’, he says, ‘how his gentle face, his beautiful face, which the angels at all times desire to contemplate and which they never tire of contemplating for all eternity, this immaculate face was spewed at with the unclean and stinking spittle of the Jews.’

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The corresponding text from the ‘Stimulus amoris’ reads as follows: Amantissime Domine, quanta illic indigna a propria gente pertulisti? Vultum tuum desiderabilem, in quem desiderat Angeli prospicere, qui omnes coelos adimplevit laetitia, quem deprecabuntur omnes divites plebis, polluti labii sui sputis inquinaverunt, sacrilegis manibus ceciderunt, velo in derisum operuerunt, et te Dominum universae creaturae tanquam servum contemptibilem colaphizaverunt. Dearest Lord, how much humiliation did you have to endure from your own people? Your beloved face, on which the angels long to gaze, which fills all the heavens with joy, and which will be worshipped by the princes of the people, was soiled by the spittle of their impure lips, and they smote it with their sacrilegious hands, and mockingly they blindfolded it. And they struck you, the Lord of all creation, on the face like a despicable servant. Comparison of the texts shows that the Latin original does not actually mention the Jews. Although in the Latin text too the words ‘polluti [impure]’ and ‘inquinaverunt [soiled]’ allude to the humiliating defilement of Christ’s face, the text does not state who was responsible. Here the stress lies on the suffering Christ underwent; the Latin version is not interested in the question of who inflicted that suffering on Christ. The situation in the German text is quite different: In providing the historical background of the text, the preacher specifies that it was the Jews who humiliated Christ. They are blamed for Christ’s suffering, and the free translation—which links the Latin words ‘polluti’ and ‘inquinaverunt’ in the pair ‘unrain [unclean]’ and ‘smekind [stinking]’—features two stereotypical adjectives used to depict the Jews in many Middle High German texts. This is the only passage in the St Georgen collection that expresses a pejorative view of Jews. The very few other instances of Jews being mentioned— the word iudon is found just three times in the whole collection—occur purely in the historical biblical context and do not express a value judgement. Given that the collection comprises forty sermons, which together amount to some 230 pages of print, it is impossible to argue that the tenor of the text is fundamentally anti-Judaistic; rather the sermons seem precisely to avoid touching on the subject of Judaism or Jews, as Gunnar Mikosch concludes. But the important question is of course: What is the reason for this apparently unusual avoidance of this theme? Before addressing this question, I would like first to look briefly at the third major collection of German-language sermons from the thirteenth century, the ‘Schwarzwälder Predigten’. I will then seek to answer the question by comparing the two collections. The ‘Schwarzwälder Predigten’ are a collection of sermons on the pericopes of the church year, probably compiled by a team of Franciscan friars at the end of the thirteenth century. Until now, only part of the collection

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has been edited; the main edition (fifty-one sermons) dates from 1844.13 In this collection, the word iude(n) turns up considerably more frequently than in the ‘St. Georgener Predigten’—about fifty times in all. This in itself of course says little about the sermons’ fundamental attitude to the Jews. The majority of the instances in which Jews are mentioned occur within the historical context of the biblical narrative and are not further commented on. In other instances, however, the clearly anti-Judaistic stance of the compilers comes to the fore. This emerges most clearly in sermons that deal with the subject of the Passion of Christ.14 This anti-Judaism is particularly evident in the sermon for the Sunday after Christmas, where we read: Sich saliger Mensch und dc kindelin iesus cristus. dc durh unseren willen ist geborn in diz welte von dem zarten libe miner frowen sante Marien. dez gelôbent die iuden niht dc ez si geborn von ainer megede. un¯ darumbe kriegent si mit den cristanen lúten. un¯ iehent wie dc moe hte sin. dc ain maget ain kindeli maget wesende gebêre. un¯ dc kindeli wen si uns nemen. un¯ wen ez von ain ander howen mit ainem swerte. un wen ez niuwan toeten.15 Behold, o blessed man: for our sake the little baby, Jesus Christ, was born into this world from the gentle womb of my Lady, Saint Mary. The Jews do not believe that he was born from a virgin, and for this reason they fight with the Christian people and ask how it could be that a virgin could give birth to a baby while remaining a virgin. And they want to take the little child from us and to chop it into pieces with a sword, and want nothing other than to kill it. As evidence for this allegation, the preacher adduces the story of the judgement of Solomon (III Kings 3. 16–28): Two women dispute who is the true mother of a certain baby; the false mother would prefer the child to be divided in two than for it to be given to the other woman. In referring to the virginity of Mary, the preacher here draws attention to a fundamental point of contention between Jews and Christians: the Jews’ rejection of the virgin birth, and consequently of the dual nature of Christ. The manner in which the accusation of disbelief is formulated here is strongly reminiscent of the accusations of ritual murder that were constantly levelled at the Jews. In several cases this legend acted as a direct catalyst for the persecution of Jews. HYPOTHESES The three major sermon collections of the thirteenth century—Berthold of Regensburg, ‘St. Georgener Predigten’, and ‘Schwarzwälder Predigten’— represent three fundamentally different types of sermons.

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The ‘St. Georgener Predigten’ were intended for the cura monialium within the Cistercian order. These are not sermons ad populum, whose principal function, as Charlemagne’s admonitio generalis had set out, was to explain the readings of church services. The ‘St. Georgener Predigten’ do not explain the pericope; rather they address themes that were relevant for the women’s common life in the monastery and for their spirituality. Whereas sermons ad populum very often explain the pericope according to the fourfold meaning of the Scriptures, often in the form of a homily, verse by verse, sermons intended for the cura monialium most often take the form of sermones: The preacher chooses a specific verse of the Bible and interprets it using dilatationes and subdilatationes. The historical and typological senses of the Bible, virtually indispensable for explaining the text of the Sunday Gospel to unlearned lay people, are found much less often in scholastic sermons that take a single verse or even word as their starting point. Where the preacher focuses on the historical sense of the Bible, New Testament texts often require a factual reference to the Jewish people. A typological interpretation by definition involves recourse to the Old Covenant, which, from the perspective of New Testament theology, is fulfilled and accomplished in the New. The oppositions between followers or disciples of Christ on the one hand and Jews on the other, between Christianity and Judaism, are already an integral part of the traditional exegesis of the texts. These exegetical traditions do not play a decisive role in the thematic sermo, which is most characteristic of preaching in the context of the cura monialium. In these sermons, the main focus is on the conduct of the individual (sensus moralis), and on that individual’s hopes for the life to come (sensus anagogicus). The ‘Schwarzwälder Predigten’, on the other hand, are pericopal sermons, intended in the first instance as model sermons for the pastoral care of lay people. These are sermons ad populum. One of the most striking characteristics of the ‘Schwarzwälder Predigten’ is their intensive use of Old Testament urkunden (evidence). This technique serves both a didactic and an entertainment purpose, because drawing on the Old Testament almost always provides an extra narrative element for the sermon. At the same time, the typological approach explains why the theme of ‘Jews and Judaism’ is much more evident than in the ‘St. Georgener Predigten’, giving rise to a text-immanent evaluation (and devaluation) of the Jews. The sermons brought together under the name ‘Berthold of Regensburg’ bear the hallmarks of a charismatic preacher to the people. The sermons are extremely emphatic, make frequent appeals to the listener, and constantly address or discuss individual social groups. This is the context in which the Jews too occur in the sermons, as a group that is portrayed and criticized by the preacher in a drastic manner. These utterances go much further than the anti-Judaism inherent in ecclesiastical dogma. Gunnar Mikosch points out that Berthold’s anti-Jewish polemics should be seen in the context of his similar utterances against heretics and other

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groups that are equally despicable in Berthold’s eyes.16 However, the fact that other groups are not spared Berthold’s polemics in no way detracts from the explosiveness of his anti-Jewish remarks, because they must certainly have influenced the listeners against the Jewish population, who were actually present and visible in the listeners’ own towns in a way that heretics and heathens were not. The sermons transmitted under Berthold’s name deal with issues of daily life, including religious daily life—that is, matters such as confession and penance, indulgences, avarice, and the frequency of marital relations. In this sphere of day-to-day life, the Jews and the qualities attributed to them, their religious rites, and their faith serve as a negative foil for the preacher to address his listeners even more vehemently. The fact that Berthold’s German sermons were in all likelihood composed by a group of Franciscans from Augsburg following the model of Berthold’s actual delivered sermons suggests that this functionalization of the Jews and the Jewish faith may have been an instrument of mendicant preaching. In summary, we can formulate the following hypotheses: 1. Jews are thematized more forcefully in pericopal sermons than in thematic sermons. 2. Pericopal sermons are used more often than thematic sermons for the instruction of a mixed group of listeners. For this reason, anti-Judaistic tendencies are more likely to be found in sermons ad populum than in the pastoral sermons intended for the cura monialium. 3. As Berthold of Regensburg’s sermons show, the personality of the preacher leaves its mark on the sermon, even if this personality is not authentic. This may seem self-evident, but we should not lose sight of this aspect in attempting systematically to describe the attitude towards the Jews in medieval sermons in German. 4. Certain themes in the sermons serve as focal points for anti-Judaistic utterances. Unsurprisingly, the most prominent of these focal points is the death and suffering of Christ. 5. If this assumption is correct, one would expect anti-Judaistic tendencies in German-language sermons to increase steadily over the succeeding centuries, since the late Middle Ages saw an unparalleled flourishing of Passion devotion—this is attested by the numerous representations of the Man of Sorrows fashioned in the fifteenth century (to mention but one example). FOURTEENTH- AND FIFTEENTH-CENTURY SERMONS The focus of the following sections will be on presenting sermon material that has not yet been published and is thus largely unknown. Nevertheless, we cannot discuss sermons from this period without any mention of the

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two great preachers of the fourteenth-century German Dominican mystical tradition: Meister Eckhart and Johannes Tauler. Interestingly, their sermons demonstrate fundamentally different attitudes towards the theme of Jews and Judaism.

The Mystical Sermon: Meister Eckhart, ‘Spamers Mosaiktraktate’, and Johannes Tauler The sermons of Meister Eckhart are the most prominent example of thematic sermons, which entirely dispense with any attempt to embed the themata of the sermons in their historical context. Although the majority of Eckhart’s sermons can indeed be assigned to a very specific day of the liturgical year on the basis of the thema, this does not make them pericopal sermons in the usual sense of the word. Eckhart often selects just one verse from the pericope to serve as the basis of his sermon; sometimes he chooses a single word. Even in those sermons in which Eckhart appears to allude to the historical context in his interpretation of the text, first impressions are deceptive. Take sermon 25 (‘Moyses orabat [Moses prayed]’), for instance, in which, by reordering the verses, Eckhart gives the conversation between God and Moses a new slant (Moses = Man). Eckhart interprets Moses as representing every human being who wishes to achieve union with God. Consequently, neither the Jewish people nor the Jewish religion plays any role in Eckhart’s sermons; the Jews are not accentuated either positively or negatively. Nor is there any occasion for Eckhart to identify the crowds who follow, escort, criticize, revere, or mock Jesus as Jewish people. The word ‘Jew’ simply does not occur in his sermons.17 This observation holds for the texts in the edition of Eckhart’s works, which, although they have often been reconstructed from a series of sources, are nevertheless generally qualified as ‘authentic’. However, a glance at the transmission shows that where sermons by Eckhart are used as building blocks in the compilation of new sermons, polemical, antiJudaistic utterances can seamlessly be incorporated into Eckhart’s sermons. A good example of this can be seen in a sermon that has come down to us in ‘Spamers Mosaiktraktaten [Spamer’s tessellated tracts]’ from the first half of the fourteenth century. The sermon takes its departure from the Easter Gospel according to Matthew and proceeds to enumerate all the appearances of Jesus from his resurrection to the pouring out of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost. For his exegesis of the narrative from John 20. 11–18, the sermon from ‘Spamers Mosaiktraktaten’ makes use of Eckhart’s sermon no. 55 (‘Maria Magdalena venit ad monumentum [Maria came to the tomb]’). The author of the new sermon adds a depiction of all the encounters between Mary Magdalene and the risen Christ and takes this occasion to narrate several details from the legend of Mary Magdalene. He then returns to the appearances of Christ, specifically to Matthew 28. 10, where Jesus instructs the women at the tomb to inform his disciples that he is risen, so that they can meet him in Galilee. The preacher paraphrases Matthew 28. 11–15:

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e

Do giengent die dez grabez huten in die stat und seitent allez daz su o gesehen haten von der urstende. Do gabent in die iuden grosz gut, daz sú offenliche den lúten seiten daz die iungern Ihesum hatent verstolen, do sú sliefent. Daz geloubent die iuden noch. Now those who had been guarding the tomb went into the town and recounted all they had seen of the resurrection. The Jews paid them a lot of money to publicly tell the people that the disciples had stolen Jesus while the guards were asleep. This the Jews believe to this day. The verses of the Gospel that accuse the high priests of bribing the guards to cover up the resurrection are not quoted, let alone discussed, in the oeuvre of sermons by Meister Eckhart. They are irrelevant in the context of Meister Eckhart’s ‘preaching strategy’: Swenne ich predige, sô pflige ich ze sprechenne von abegescheidenheit und daz der mensche ledic werde sîn selbes und aller dinge. Ze dem andern mâle, daz man wider îngebildet werde in daz einvaltige guot, daz got ist. Ze dem dritten mâle, daz man gedenke der grôzen edelkeit, die got an die sêle hât geleget, daz der mensche dâmite kome in ein wunder ze gote. Ze dem vierden mâle von götlîcher natûre lûterkeit—waz klârheit an götlîcher natûre sî, daz ist unsprechelich. Got ist ein wort, ein ungesprochen wort.18 When I preach it is my wont to speak about detachment, and of how man should rid himself of self and of all things. Secondly, that man should be informed back into the simple good which is God. Thirdly, that we should remember the great nobility God has put into the soul, so that man may come miraculously to God. Fourthly, of the purity of the divine nature, for the splendour of God’s nature is unspeakable. God is a word, an unspoken word.19 The fact that the Jews and the Jewish faith are not relevant in Eckhart’s sermons is due to his personal understanding of God, his theosophy. Although his sermons were also preached ad populum, they are far removed from traditional catechesis for lay people. It is impossible to discern the individual target groups for Eckhart’s sermons, but they must indeed have been intended for specific recipients: on the one hand preaching to religious women within the framework of the cura monialium, and on the other hand preaching to lay people who, in Cologne, for instance, apparently followed Eckhart from church to church. Eckhart does not orient his sermon towards a given audience, but rather preaches what he has to preach: ‘Der Prediger Eckhart verkündet die von ihm erkannte Wahrheit (und muß dies tun), ohne die mögliche Reaktion des Publikums zu seinem einzigen Kriterium zu machen [Eckhart the preacher proclaims the truth as he understands it (and

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has to do so), without making the possible reaction of the audience his only criterion]’:20 Swer dise predige hât verstanden, dem gan ich ir wol. Enwære hie nieman gewesen, ich müeste sie disem stocke geprediget hân.21 Whoever heard this sermon, I do not begrudge it him. But if there had been nobody here, I would have had to preach it to this stick. The situation could not be more different, however, when we come to the other great preacher of German mysticism, Johannes Tauler. Tauler’s sermons are clearly targeted ad populum, and aim to provide catechetical instruction. Tauler tries to combine the ancient tradition of the explication of the pericope with mystagogical life-teachings. In this way the Jews, who are often identified with the Pharisees so frequently mentioned in the New Testament, occur in Tauler’s sermons as figures of contrast or are portrayed in a negative light in the framework of an allegorical or moral interpretation of the Bible text. In Tauler’s sermon for Pentecost ‘Repleti sunt omnes [They were all filled]’,22 for instance, in the explication of John 20. 19 the Jews are interpreted as the many different types of temptation and enticement that lurk on all sides and prevent people from being filled with the Holy Ghost. This interpretation is fashioned in such a way that in the inner eye of the listener the image automatically develops of a threatening and physically unpleasant omnipresent crowd of people, waiting to pounce: Die jungern warent in beslossen umb die vorhte der juden. O minneno klicher Got, wie vil tusent werbe merre not were nu dem menschen zu o fliehende und sich inzusliessende vor den leiden juden, die allenthalben sint an allen enden, und alle die husere und winkele vol sint! Eya lieben e o kinder, hutent úch vor disen alzu schedelichen juden, die úch Got und e gotteliche heimlicheit und daz minnenkliche gewar werden des heiligen o geistes und goe tteliches trostes wellent úch benemen; das tut úch tusent o e e valt noter dan in tete; wanne die giene enmohtent in nút me getun wan den lip benemen, aber dise benement úch Got und uwer sele und ewiges leben; dise fliehent und sliessent úch in und lossent uwer schedelich e uzlov ffen sin; hutent úch vor den ursachen, vor der geselleschaft und kurtzewile der worte, der werg, der wisen.23 The disciples were shut away for fear of the Jews. O gentle God, how many thousand times more needful it is today for people to flee and hide themselves away for fear of the evil Jews, who are everywhere at all times—all houses and nooks and crannies are full of them! O beloved children, beware of those most harmful Jews, who want to take from you God and divine revelations and the gentle experience of the Holy

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Ghost and the divine comforter; this is a thousand times more needful for you than it was for them [the disciples]; because then those [the Jews] could do nothing more than take their lives, whereas these ones will take God from you, and take your soul and your eternal life; take flight from them and shut yourselves away, and desist from running outside; beware of the causes, of company and diverting words, deeds, and ways. In Tauler’s sermons, bad Christians are likened to the Jews, who are only preoccupied with good works, and contrasted with true friends of God, who experience a special nearness to God through immersion in the mysteries of God.24 For Tauler, the ‘judesche wise [Jewish way]’25 means justification by works, the attitude of ostentatious piety of observing all the required rites and actions, but without the involvement of the inner being of the individual.26 In criticizing those who attach excessive value to reason, which can never lead to true knowledge of the love of God, Tauler also refers to the Jews and their Scribes and Pharisees.27 In her book on Tauler, Louise Gnädinger examines Tauler’s image of the Jews in more detail and also points to several of the aspects mentioned earlier.28 She comes to the conclusion that Tauler never demonstrates a polemical or aggressive attitude to the Scribes, Pharisees, or other Jews, but simply subscribes to ‘das—leider—negativ vorgeprägte christliche Judenbild [the—unfortunately—negatively moulded image of the Jews]’.29 However, Gnädinger does not discuss the sermon for the Pentecost alluded to earlier, which evokes an intimidating crowd of Jewish oppressors. And if we examine the lexical context in which the twenty-five references to Jews in Tauler’s sermons are embedded, we can establish that the Jews are often associated with the mocking and tormenting of Christ and of Christians in general,30 or are characterized by a pejorative adjective (‘boe se [evil]’, ‘leide [sickening]’, and ‘schedelich [malicious]’).31 Other phrases that imply inferiority are also found: ‘und seite do den juden iren bresten [and there he told the Jews about their failures]’.32 Even if the Strasbourg preacher Johannes Tauler cannot be accused of actively inciting his listeners to persecute the Jews, in the sense of explicitly calling on them to take action, his sermons nevertheless reflect the strongly anti-Jewish feeling in Strasbourg that would lead to the large-scale pogrom of 1349, in which an estimated two hundred or more Jews were burned.33

Postils and Glossed Plenaries Postils and glossed plenaries are sermon cycles ordered in the sequence of the church year and mainly devoted to the exegesis of the readings for the Sundays and feast days. These are pericopal sermons, then, which—as we saw above—are more likely than thematic sermons to reveal information about the preacher’s attitude to the Jews.

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From the fourteenth century onwards, postils and glossed plenaries developed as a new and popular type of sermon transmission.34 The genre did not actually reach its height until the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries. The reasons for this explosive growth of glossed plenaries from 1400 onwards must surely have to do with the increasing and programmatic transfer of theological knowledge to lay people. One of the most popular collections of this type is known as the ‘Postille Heinrichs (Hartwigs) von Erfurt [Postil of Heinrich (Hartwig) of Erfurt]’, whose origins lie in the early fourteenth century. The postil, with its 176 sermons for the Sundays and feast days of the church year and a selection of saints’ days, is one of the most extensive ‘preaching manuals’ in Middle High German. It is transmitted in twelve manuscripts and one fragment. Apart from the postil, there are two further types of transmission for these sermons: a plenary version, of which eleven manuscripts survive, and a tract version, found in six manuscripts. The collection was used not only as a tool for preparing sermons to be given on the next feast day, but also as a source for other collections, which selected some of its sermons to include in their own new context. This is the case for the collections known as the ‘Plenarium Friedrichs des Karmeliter [Plenary of Friedrich the Carmelite]’, the ‘Heiligenleben [Lives of the Saints]’ of Hermann of Fritzlar, and the ‘Brevier Kaiser Friedrichs III. [Breviary of Emperor Frederick III]’. As yet the only one of these extensive sermon collections to have been edited is Hermann of Fritzlar’s ‘Heiligenleben’.35 The following example will examine Heinrich of Erfurt’s ‘Postille’ and the plenary associated with the name of Friedrich the Carmelite.36 These collections have been chosen as illustrative because they transmit several sermons in common and yet demonstrate clear differences in their attitude to the Jews. Unlike the ‘Plenar Friedrichs des Karmeliters’, Heinrich of Erfurt’s postil also includes sermons for the Ember days, as well as a series of sermons that were clearly intended for those in the religious life. Some of the sermons deal with mystical themes such as, for example, ‘Von einem freien gemüt das da beitent ist dez ewigen wortes [Of a free will that awaits the eternal word]’, ‘Drei frag von der gelaßenheit des geistes [Three questions about the serenity of the spirit]’, or ‘Drey frage von der ewigen gepurt [Three questions about eternal birth]’. As we might expect, the Jews and the Jewish faith are scarcely mentioned in these sermons. If we take the pericopal sermons, however, the situation is very different. And it was five of these sermons which, about forty to fifty years later, found their way into the ‘Plenary of Friedrich der Karmeliter’. Even in Heinrich’s collection, the Jews are highlighted negatively in the commentary on the Gospel and Epistle texts in which they are mentioned. In his sermons we find the whole range of stereotypical anti-Judaistic utterances encountered in medieval German sermons. I will now give a brief summary of the charges and accusations against the Jews, stating the occasion in the church year for which the sermon in question was intended:37

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1. Pride: The Jews believed they were the best and the most worthy, because they were the first chosen people of God (First Sunday in Lent). 2. Bad character traits: The Jews were too lazy to listen to Jesus’s words and too inwardly cold to act in accordance with his words. They will be punished for this on the Day of Judgement (Wednesday after the First Sunday in Lent). 3. Disbelief: The Jews are devoid of reason, because they revere neither the Trinity, nor Christ, nor the Holy Ghost, and do not call on the saints or Mary the Mother of God to intercede for them (Friday after Oculi Sunday). 4. Hatred: Nobody hated Christ as much as the Jews, their priests, and their bishops (Christmas Day). Christ cursed the Jews because they were guilty of the death of the martyrs (St Stephen’s Day). 5. Infanticide: When Jesus stayed behind in the temple, Mary and Joseph feared that the Jews had abducted him to kill him (Octave of Epiphany). 6. Betrayal: Jesus was betrayed by the Jews (Wednesday after Reminiscere Sunday). 7. Blame for the death and suffering of Christ: Just as a good and unflawed human being should hide from the pernicious evilness of his fellow Christians, Christ hid from the Jews (Wednesday after Reminiscere Sunday). The Jews went looking for Jesus so that they could kill him (Friday after Laetare Sunday). They tortured him all night long (Good Friday). It was the Jews who willed Jesus’s death; Pontius Pilate would gladly have saved him (Good Friday). The Jews refused to soften their hearts (Good Friday). The leaders of the Jews had Jesus put to death so that they would not lose their power (Friday after Reminiscere Sunday). The Jews did not want to believe in the resurrection, and for that reason their leaders mocked Christ on the cross (Good Friday). 8. Blindness: The blindness of the Jews is evident from the fact that they claimed that Jesus was leading the people astray (Good Friday). The blindness, hatred and perfidiousness of the Jews were also demonstrated when they begged for the murderer Barabbas to be set free rather than Jesus (Good Friday). 9. Children of the Devil: When the Jews killed Christ, the Devil established himself within them (Wednesday after the First Sunday in Lent). The Devil is the father of the Jews (John the Baptist). 10. Avarice and mendacity: The Jews bribed the guards of the tomb to stop them telling anyone about Christ’s resurrection (Second Sunday in Lent). The enumeration of these accusations creates an oppressive and intimidating picture of the Jews—and it is only in juxtaposing these passages that we see the full extent of the anti-Judaistic attitude that pervades the postil. The self-evidence with which these views are presented probably had a stronger influence on mentalities and prejudices than individual sermons inciting

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hatred of the Jews, which must certainly have been preached, but of which not one has survived. The postil of Heinrich shows a clear concentration of anti-Jewish utterances in the sermons dealing with the Passion of Christ. One of the sermons that demonstrate a pronounced anti-Jewish stance is the sermon for St Stephen’s Day; even in the early German sermons the stoning of St Stephen was a focal point for anti-Judaistic utterances.38 In addition to these anti-Jewish passages there are a few in which the preacher provides neutral information about the Jewish people as the people of the Old Covenant. There is even one sermon in which the preacher expresses compassion for the Jews: In his sermon for Innocents’ Day, the preacher speaks of the immeasurable suffering of the Jews whose children were all massacred. In the plenary of Friedrich the Carmelite, the anti-Judaism that emerges from time to time in the sermons of Heinrich of Erfurt, mainly at the anticipated focal points, develops into an open and polemicizing antiJewish attitude, which is no longer concentrated on the Jews’ guilt for the suffering and death of Christ. Whereas Heinrich of Erfurt’s postil originated in the first third of the fourteenth century, Friedrich the Carmelite’s plenary probably dates from the time of the persecution of Jews, halfway through the century. Many of the sermons in Heinrich’s postil are clearly addressed to religious people; the plenary, on the other hand, is intended mainly for a lay audience. Here sermons that thematize the Jews in some way are actually in the majority, and this thematization is seldom confined to the anti-Judaistic attitude of New Testament texts; rather the collection’s anti-Jewish tendencies far exceed those of the underlying biblical texts. In the explication of the four types of ground in the parable of the sower, for instance, the Jews are accused of being responsible for the seed that fell among thorns (Sexagesima). This interpretation is extremely unusual in the history of the exegesis of this gospel in the German-speaking area. And in this way the entire plenary is permeated by an attitude that ultimately even culminates in a call to mock the Jews—the first instance I have come across in a German sermon of a call to actually act against the Jews. In the sermon for the Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, on Luke 19. 41–47, which tells of Jesus weeping over the destruction of Jerusalem, the preacher, probably following the Legenda Aurea, tells the story of Titus besieging Jerusalem, of the humiliation and crucifixion of the inhabitants, and of a woman eating her own child. The preacher concludes his account with the words: ‘Und wer den juden noch hút des tags schemlichen wil sprechen der werff in daz selb fûr [And whoever wishes to speak ill of the Jews today should accuse them of this same thing]’.39

Fifteenth-Century Sermons from Basle: Anti-Judaism in a Town without Jews In Basle, as in Strasbourg, in 1349 the first Jewish community in the city was destroyed by targeted persecution and murder. The adult Jews, who

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refused baptism, were herded together in a building on one of the islands in the Rhine and were burned to death. Many children were forcibly baptized and made to enter monasteries. In the 1360s, Jews again settled in Basle, but the last members of this second Jewish community left the city as early as 1397. They feared a repeat of the first pogrom, because Jews had again been blamed for an outbreak of the plague in the surrounding areas. For the next four hundred years, there would be no Jewish community in Basle.40 We know for certain that no Jews were living in Basle at the time of the Council of Basle (1431–49): When in 1439 the Council elected Duke Amadeus VIII of Savoy as antipope (Pope Felix V), the authorities of Basle were concerned to adhere to the proper Roman ceremony for the inauguration of the new pope. Part of the ceremony involved a meeting between the new pope and the resident Jews, who were to pay him homage. But it proved impossible to produce any resident Jews in Basle in 1349. For this reason the authorities especially invited Jews from neighbouring Alsace to come to Basle to take part in the ceremony and guaranteed them safe conduct.41 Sixty-one sermons in German have come down to us that are attributed to a Dominican preacher by the name of Konrad Schlatter. Schlatter was father confessor to the nuns of the Dominican nun’s convent ‘Ad lapides’ in Basle from 1428, and from 1433/1434 he held the office of Prior at the Dominican convent in the city. The sixty-one sermons in question were delivered in the ‘Ad lapides’ convent in the context of the cura monialium. Schlatter had studied at the University of Heidelberg and he later went on to pursue further studies at the Dominican Studium Generale in Cologne; from there he sent regular epistles back to his spiritual children in Basle.42 The oldest manuscript in which Schlatter’s sermons are transmitted was probably written in around 1432,43 thus in the early years of the Council of Basle. At this time, there had been no Jewish community in Basle for several decades. Konrad Schlatter’s sermons are typical products of the pastoral care of women in the context of the Dominican Observance movement: They do not include fundamental catechetical instruction by explicating the texts of the pericopes, as we still find in sermons ad populum of the fifteenth century; rather they focus on themes such as the proper forms of atonement, the cardinal virtues and sins, and the common life in a monastic community. Schlatter’s sermons do not demonstrate a marked interest in the Jewish religion and cult, or in the Jews as a group in medieval society. On the few occasions the word ‘Jew’ is even mentioned, we find the same stereotypes that are already familiar to us from earlier phases of the German sermon. In one sermon on the Passion of Christ, for instance, Schlatter mentions the Jews’ ‘hertikeit [hard-heartedness]’;44 in another sermon on the same subject he explains that the Jews did not believe in the dual nature of Christ.45 In yet another sermon on the Passion,46 Schlatter states that Jesus healed the ear of the soldier injured by Peter in order to show the Jews that they were wrong. In the introduction to a sermon for Advent,47 Schlatter also includes a Marian miracle, which is intended to illustrate how much God is displeased by anyone showing contempt for Mary: A Jew desecrates a statue of Mary,

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after which the Devil kills the Jew and carts him off to hell. Once a Christian finds and restores the statue, it pours forth oil, and the image of the mother of Christ assures the Christian that the oil symbolizes the compassion he will experience thanks to Mary.48 Marian miracles alluding to the Jews have a long tradition in German vernacular. The exemplum of the Jewish boy (‘De puero Judaeo’), for instance, was used in a sermon already in the early thirteenth century.49 The origins of the association between Mary and the Jews perhaps lie in the fact that the Jews were reproached for denying not only the dual nature of Christ, but also the virgin birth. Schlatter does not address this issue in any further detail, however. For him the exemplum serves merely to demonstrate how much Christ values his mother and how much power he has invested in her. However, we would be wrong to deduce from this that the Jews simply do not impinge on Schlatter’s consciousness: At another point it becomes clear that he does indeed have a dogmatic interest in the Jewish question. In one of Schlatter’s sermons on the Passion of Christ,50 he notes that Jews and heathens are also under an obligation to confess their sins, and that their confessor must be a Christian priest. The priest may not grant them absolution, however, unless of course they accept baptism. Even if a Jew or a heathen has never committed any sin other than not attending confession, he will still be damned. And finally, Schlatter also discusses the sins of the Jews in his sermon for the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity, which relates to the Gospel of the day, Luke 7. 11–16, the raising from the dead of a widow’s son in Nain. Jesus’ command to the dead boy, ‘Surge [Arise!]’, is traditionally interpreted as a call to Christians to arise from the slough of sin and turn their back on their old sins. Schlatter takes this opportunity to explain that the Gospel speaks of the three sins of the Jews: envy and hatred, avarice, and pride. Whereas the first two sins are interpreted as applying to all people and comprise a universal warning, Schlatter relates the third sin, pride, specifically to the Jews: Nû kinder, [70v] die dritte súnde der Juden daz waz hochvart. Wanne sú worent geneiget oben an dem tysche zû sitzen und dar umb stroffet sú ouch unser herre.51 Now, children, the third sin of the Jews was pride. For they wanted to sit at the head of the table, and for that our Lord also punishes them. This description of the Jews is reminiscent of the request of the sons of Zebedee to be allowed to sit at the right and left hand of Jesus in the Kingdom of God (Mark 10. 35–37). But Schlatter does not elaborate. For him, the sins or bad character traits of the Jews seem to be self-evident, and he assumes his listeners will require no further explanation. In the same sermon, Schlatter laments the fact that too few people hallow Sundays and holy days and cites the Jewish laws for the Sabbath (when it is forbidden to

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cook, make a fire, walk more than a thousand steps, carry wood, or make wine), for which he gives a spiritual interpretation. Schlatter then goes on to criticize the Jews again, because they kept the laws of the Sabbath only outwardly, and not spiritually. He refers back to the dispositio of his sermon by again alluding to the allegedly Jewish sins in the form of a reprise: Die Juden hieltent iren firtag also von ussen und worent aber geneiget zû sûnden zû nyd und hasse und zû hochvart.52 Thus the Jews only outwardly kept holy their Sabbath day, but were inclined towards sin, towards envy and hatred, and towards pride. It remains unclear whether in this sermon Konrad Schlatter is speaking about the ‘historical’ Jews, that is of the time of the Old and New Testament, or whether he is also referring to the Jews who, having been driven out of the towns of south-western Germany, had sought refuge in rural areas.53 Even if no Jews had been living in Basle for several decades by this stage, Schlatter thematizes this group when preaching to nuns who are living in strict enclosure behind the convent walls. And there is apparently no need to underpin the negative characterization of this group by spelling out their involvement in the death and suffering of Christ. The negative basic attitude to the Jewish people is particularly noticeable in Schlatter’s sermons because the Jews are seldom actually thematized and their shortcomings are not enumerated or explained as in the plenaries and postils; rather these sermons reflect a matter-of-fact anti-Jewish attitude that is felt to require no further explanation.

Fifteenth-Century Sermons from Strasbourg In Strasbourg too there was no longer a Jewish community in the fifteenth century. Similarly to the situation in Basle, a few new Jewish families had settled for a short time in the 1360s, but the Jews were definitively driven out of the town in 1390.54 Thirty-three sermons have come down to us from a father confessor of the Dominican convent of ‘St. Nikolaus in undis’ by the name of Peter of Breslau.55 The sermons, which date from the mid-fifteenth century, are mainly on the theme of the Passion of Christ.56 As in the sermons of Konrad Schlatter, the Jews are not really thematized, but are mentioned a few times in the context of the Passion, mainly in passages dealing with the mocking of Christ.57 Nevertheless, one of Peter of Breslau’s sermons provides an instance of an element that was not found in German-language medieval sermons until now: the transition from an anti-Judaistic stance that is inherent to the interpretation of the New Testament text to an antisemitism not focused on the Jews’ disbelief or alleged obdurateness, but directed against the Jews as a race. In the context of a meditation exercise on the Passion of

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Christ, which describes Christ’s suffering limb by limb, Peter of Breslau also discusses the fact that Jesus suffered from the noxious smell of the Jews: ˇ ch het er [Christus] gelitten jnn siner nasen mit sinen nase loe cheren O von dem v´belen boe sen gestang der juden wenn es ein vnlústliches volk waz. Vnd sú ossent zúbelen vnd klobeloch vnd solliche matterie daz sich in der naht towet vnd aller meist smacket vnd do sú den herren verspuweten da geschach im also we von dem gestancke daz im sin hertz gebrochen moe hte sin.58 And he [Christ] also suffered in his nose and his nostrils from the terrible, noxious stink of the Jews, because it was an unsavoury people. And they ate onions and garlic and that sort of matter that is sweat out at night and smells very strongly, and when they spat on the Lord he suffered so much from the stink that his heart must have broken. Even if the term ‘antisemitism’ is anachronistic for the period in question here, it certainly provides food for thought that it is precisely in the sermon preceding the outburst of hatred described here that the Jews are referred to as ‘the children of Noah’.59

Cross-section Several sermon compilations bring together German-language sermons from several centuries. I would like to conclude by presenting a very special compilation. The manuscript containing the collection was not written until 1496, but the sixty-six pastoral texts it transmits, most of them sermons, span a period of over 250 years. In this way, the compilation provides a cross-section of the sermon literature discussed in the current study. In the main, the compiler or compilers ordered the texts, which represent a range of very different transmission traditions, according to the church year. The manuscript in question is the Berlin folio codex Ms. germ. fol. 741, written by Sister Felicitas Lieberin in the Dominican convent of Medingen in the Swabian Ries in the year 1496. The earliest material included in this collection is a sermon from the ‘St. Georgener Predigten’ (see above). Other sermons that can be dated to the thirteenth century are the ‘Hochalemannischen Predigten [High Alemannic Sermons]’, a collection of Dominican provenance, probably originating from the Dominican convent of St. Katharinental in Diessenhofen, near Schaffhausen.60 The genre of the so-called mystical sermon is also well represented, with one text by Meister Eckhart and nine sermons by the Dominican Nikolaus von Straßburg (‘of Strasbourg’ or ‘of Argentina’), a contemporary of Eckhart’s who played a significant role in the politics of the order.61 There is only one representative of the Strasbourg tradition of German-language sermons: a sermon by Ulrich der Johanniter

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from the commandery of Grüner Wörth.62 Basle, on the other hand, is well represented: At least twenty of the sermons in this compilation were held at the Dominican convent ‘Ad Lapides’ during the Council of Basle. As we saw above, Konrad Schlatter was father confessor to this convent. No sermons by him occur in this manuscript, but it does include one by Erhard Hel, who was lector at the Dominican convent in Basle.63 The collection also includes numerous sermons by Heinrich Kalteisen,64 a famous participant at the Council, as well as one by the equally well-known Dominican Juan de Torquemada, emissary of the King of Castile and a delegate of the Dominican order. These three Dominicans are joined by three members of the secular clergy who preached in Basle: Johannes Himmel from Weits, also known as Johannes Coeli,65 Thomas Ebendorfer from the University of Vienna, and Nikolaus of Jauer, also known as Nikolaus Magni or Nikolaus Groß of Jawor.66 The sermons were preached at ‘Ad Lapides’ during the early years of the Council of Basle.67 This group of sermons is particularly noteworthy, because it completes a circle that is of great interest to the present study: Konrad Schlatter was father confessor of the Dominican convent not only in Basle, but also at Schönensteinbach, which is probably where the texts at the basis of this compilation were kept before they were brought to Medlingen. Schönensteinbach was one of the first Dominican women’s convents to embrace the Observance movement. It was re-established in 1397, with significant involvement of nuns from St. Katharinental near Diessenhofen, the convent from which the ‘Hochalemannische Predigten’ very probably originate. The ‘Hochalemannische Predigten’ are among the earliest Dominican sermon collections in German and are characterized by a marked delight in narrative. They include several exempla that relate to historical figures— such as Louis the Pious, King of the Franks, and Wichmann of Arnstein, Mechthild of Magdeburg’s first father confessor.68 A sermon in the Berlin manuscript Ms. germ. fol. 741 also includes two exempla that are very similar to those of the ‘Hochalemannische Predigten’ in their detailed narrative and ‘historical’ orientation. Although this sermon has not hitherto been assigned to the collection, there can be no doubt that it belongs in the same transmission context as the ‘Hochalemannische Predigten’ and may well also originate from St. Katharinental in Diessenhofen. The first of the two exempla, the story of Wirnt of Grafenberg and Frau Welt,69 is found with identical wording both in the sermon in the ‘Hochalemannische Predigten’ for the feast of All Souls and in a sermon for the Octave of Christmas Day in the Berlin manuscript. The topic of the sermon is the dual nature of Christ. As evidence for the divine nature of Christ, the preacher adduces a second exemplum, citing as his authority the Dominican Provincial Superior Dietrich of Freiberg (*1240/45, died after 1310). Dietrich is alleged to have read the story himself in a book belonging to a cardinal of the Curia in Rome:70 In a confidential conversation, a Jew tells a Christian about a book listing the names of the priests of the Jews that also includes the name of Jesus.

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The Jew reveals that there is an entry in the book that proves Jesus’ divine origins. This makes the book theologically highly controversial, because it means that the dual nature of Christ as God and man is proved precisely by the enemies of Christianity. The Christian who has been informed of the existence of this book passes on the information to the emperor, Theodosius, and this prompts the Jews to burn the book. Theodosius ensures that the incident is recorded.71 The preacher adds in explanation that this exemplum demonstrates that the Jews were aware of the dual nature of Christ all along but were determined not to believe it. And the preacher adduces extra evidence to confirm this: The Jews would never have let Jesus preach in the temple and drive out the money changers72 had they not known of his divine nature. They are cursed, the preacher asserts, because of their wilful disbelief. With its striking exemplum, this sermon, written very probably already in the thirteenth century, brings us back to the Christian religion’s fundamental accusation against the Jews: their disbelief, their alleged incapability of believing what they are said to have seen with their own eyes. Intellect and knowledge are irrelevant here; in the view of the preacher, the Jews, by persisting in their blind disbelief, have forfeited their status as the chosen people of God—it is now the Christians who are God’s people. SUMMARY The sermons investigated here support the majority, although not all, of the hypotheses I formulated at the beginning of this article: 1 and 2. Pericopal sermons—thematic sermones / sermons ad populum—sermons in the context of the cura monialium As is shown by the sermons of Berthold of Regensburg and Johannes Tauler, as well as the ‘Postille Heinrichs von Erfurt’ and the ‘Plenar Friedrichs des Karmeliters’, pericopal sermons do indeed contain many more allusions to the Jews than do sermons primarily intended for the cura monialium, which tend to be sermones on a single thema. Further confirmation for this is found in Berthold of Regensburg’s ‘monastic sermons’, which have not been included in our discussion thus far. In these six thematic sermones, the word ‘Jew’ does not occur a single time, which is indeed in striking contrast with the abundant references to the Jews in the same preacher’s sermons ad populum. Allusions to the Jews are determined in pericopal sermons by the text of the underlying pericope, in the thematic sermones by particular points in the exposition of the thema; they have nothing to do with reality. Jews or the Jewish religion are referred to and commented on regardless of whether or not there is a Jewish community in the vicinity of the hearers.

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3. The personality of the preacher Just how much two preachers’ attitudes to the Jews can differ is exemplified by Meister Eckhart and Johannes Tauler. Whereas Meister Eckhart shows no interest in the subject of the Jews, in the sermons of Johannes Tauler, who sees himself as a disciple of Eckhart’s, we encounter a clear anti-Judaistic stance. In Heinrich of Erfurt’s postil and the plenary of Friedrich the Carmelite the anti-Judaism is less pronounced, but here too it is noticeable that personal interests—in this case antipathy on the part of the compiler of the plenary—can play a role in the extent to which such views are expressed. Heinrich had a profound interest in piety in the tradition of the mystical teachings of Meister Eckhart. Perhaps for this reason, anti-Jewish sentiment is found only in a small proportion of his sermons. The compiler of the ‘Plenar Friedrichs des Karmeliters’ did not share this interest in mysticism. His sermons reflect prevailing anti-Jewish attitudes in the German-speaking area, and his collection may well have contributed to encouraging and strengthening such sentiments. 4. Choice of themes The themes that serve as focal points for anti-Judaistic statements in sermons remain the same throughout the centuries. The fundamental evil or weakness of the Jews is their disbelief; this is referred to again and again by the preachers. The Jews’ failure to believe that Jesus is indeed the son of God leads to his death, and this is thematized again and again in the fifteenth-century series of sermons on the Passion. The various episodes in the story of Christ’s suffering all act as triggers for anti-Judaistic utterances. 5. Passion piety There is very little evidence, however, to confirm my final hypothesis: That there was an increase in anti-Judaism in German-language sermons as a result of the rise of Passion piety. The fifteenth century does indeed see an increase in the series of sermons for Lent, in which the Passion of Christ naturally plays a significant role; but many of these sermons were intended for the cura monialium. In these sermons the focus is on the contemplation of the suffering of Christ, compassion with that suffering, and the imitation of Christ. Although an anti-Judaistic stance is inherent to these sermons too, it is not as prominent as in the sermons ad populum of the fourteenth century, whose anti-Judaistic attitude emerges predominantly, but certainly not exclusively, in the passages on the suffering and death of Christ. The present study looked mainly at sermons that contain anti-Judaistic utterances; as noted above, this is only the case in a fraction of sermons. However, even if explicitly anti-Judaistic statements are found only in a small proportion of the sermons that have come down to us, this says little

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about the anti-Jewish attitude of the majority of medieval clerics, which was doubtless present. Occasional lapses such as that of Peter of Breslau show that by the fifteenth century the animosity of one religion that lays an exclusive claim to the truth towards another religion that makes the same claim had already developed into a hatred for the members of a race and the characteristics attributed to them. But the mass medium that was the sermon provides little insight into this. No sermons have come down to us that incite hatred against the Jews.73 On the other hand, there are equally no indications of preachers who spoke up for the Jewish population from a sense of Christian love of their neighbours. As to the reasons for such a lack of solidarity, we can only speculate. In general terms, we can note that the sermon texts that have come down to us—both in German and in Latin— only extremely rarely allude to contemporary political or social problems. In the case of the German sermons this may have to do with the fact that in the fifteenth century, in the vast majority of cases, the lines of transmission of German-language religious literature still ran via the women’s convents and religious houses or via the Carthusian order. A more general explanation might lie in the fact that German-language sermons were often transmitted over a very long period of time, so that any references to current affairs would have lost their significance. The vernacular sermons have this characteristic in common with sermons in Latin.74 More insight into anti-Judaistic attitudes in medieval society is provided by genres such as the religious drama, in which the anti-Judaism of the New Testament melds with prejudices about the Jewish religion and negative characterizations of the Jewish people, providing a fertile breeding ground for a very widespread and all-encompassing antisemitism.75

NOTES 1. Cassian, Conference, X, chapter 6: 2. 2. This chapter grew out of my work for the project ‘Predigt im Kontext’ at the Catholic University of Eichstätt-Ingolstadt, which is funded by the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft. I am grateful to Maria Sherwood-Smith for translating my chapter. For a survey of the German sermon transmission, see HansJochen Schiewer, ‘German Sermons in the Middle Ages’, in The Sermon, ed. by Beverly Mayne Kienzle, Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental, 81–83 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), pp. 861–961, bibliography pp. 115–42, and Regina D. Schiewer and Hans-Jochen Schiewer, ‘Predigt im Spätmittelalter’, in Textsorten und Textallianzen um 1500. Teil 1: Literarische und religiöse Textsorten und Textallianzen um 1500, ed. by Alexander Schwarz and others (Berlin: Weidler, 2009), pp. 727–71. These two publications give brief information about all of the sermon collections and preachers mentioned in this chapter. 3. Cf. Georg Steer, ‘Bettelorden-Predigt als “Massenmedium” ’, in Literarische Interessenbildung im Mittelalter, ed. by Joachim Heinzle (Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler, 1994), pp. 314–36, and David d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars: Sermon Diffused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985), pp. 13–28.

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4. For a survey of the scant research literature on this subject, see Gunnar Mikosch, ‘Von alter ê und ungetriuwen juden’. Juden und Judendiskurse in den deutschen Predigten des 12. und 13. Jahrhunderts (Munich: Wilhelm Fink, 2010), pp. 11–15. 5. The only attempt to present sermons on the Jewish question in a systematic overview was undertaken by Ursula Schulze in her ‘wan ir unhail . . . daz ist iwer hail. Predigten zur Judenfrage vom 12. bis 16. Jahrhundert’, in Juden in der deutschen Literatur des Mittelalters. Religiöse Konzepte—Feindbilder— Rechtfertigungen, ed. by Ursula Schulze (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 2002), pp. 109–33. Schulze includes few German-language sermons in her analysis, but expands the object of her investigation by including literary texts, sermons in Latin (John of Capistrano), and Latin model sermons intended for the mission to the Jews (Nikolaus of Dinkelsbühl). Schulze does not differentiate according to the type of sermon involved and pays little attention to the differing groups for whom the sermons were intended. She summarizes her findings as follows: ‘Im Rückblick auf Beispiele aus über 300 Jahren hat sich ergeben, dass in “Volkspredigten” und literarischen Predigten kontinuierlich die gleichen antijüdischen Stereotype eingesetzt werden, die sich z. T. bis in die Formulierungen ähneln [A review of examples from a period spanning over three hundred years reveals that in both “sermons for lay people” and literary sermons there was continuous use of the same anti-Jewish stereotypes, often even formulated in very similar terms]’ (p. 132). In this way, Schulze suggests, the vernacular sermon could be pressed into service for the persecution of Jews at any time. 6. Mikosch, ‘Von alter ê’, and Gunnar Mikosch, ‘Nichts als Diskurse. Juden in den frühen mittelhochdeutschen Predigten des 12. und 13. Jahrhunderts’, in Historische Diskursanalysen. Genealogie, Theorie, Anwendungen, ed. by Franz X. Eder (Wiesbaden: VS Verlag für Sozialwissenschaften, 2006), p. 253–69. 7. For this reason, I shall restrict myself here to the German-language texts themselves. Information concerning preaching against or about Jews in the German-speaking area can also be found in chronicles, synodic decrees, and so on, and of course in sermons that have come down to us in Latin. 8. Mikosch, ‘Von alter ê’, pp. 216–17. 9. I am here using ‘anti-Judaistic’ to translate the German antijudaistisch, which refers to Judaism as a religion, and ‘anti-Jewish’ to translate antijüdisch, which can also refer to Jewish people. 10. Die St. Georgener Predigten, ed. by Regina D. Schiewer and Kurt Otto Seidel, Deutsche Texte des Mittelalters, 90 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2010). For the transmission of the ‘St Georgen Sermons’, see Kurt Otto Seidel, ‘Die St. Georgener Predigten’, Untersuchungen zur Überlieferungs- und Textgeschichte, Münchener Texte und Untersuchungen, 121 (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 2003). 11. Pseudo-Bernard of Clairvaux (Ekbert of Schönau), De vita et passione Domini seu Stimulus amoris, VIII, in Patrologia Latina, 184, col. 959B. 12. Die St. Georgener Predigten, no. 24, pp. 84–87. 13. Deutsche Predigten des XIII. Jahrhunderts. 2 Teile, ed. by Franz Karl Grieshaber (Stuttgart: K. F. Hering, 1844–46; reprinted Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1978). 14. An example can be found in an Easter sermon in which the Jews express their anger about Joseph of Arimathea taking Jesus down from the cross, and the Devil is portrayed as inciting the Jews to mock and torment Christ (Deutsche Predigten des XIII. Jahrhunderts, part II, pp. 137–50). In a sermon for Septuagesima, the sons of Noah mocking their father in his drunkenness are likened to the Devil mocking humankind (Deutsche Predigten des XIII. Jahrhunderts, part II, pp. 59–65).

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15. Deutsche Predigten des XIII. Jahrhunderts, part II, pp. 6–7. 16. Mikosch, ‘Von alter ê’, p. 224. This view is shared by Ariane Czerwon, Predigt gegen Ketzer. Studien zu den lateinischen Sermones Bertholds von Regensburg, Studies in the Late Middle Ages, Humanism and the Reformation, 57 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), pp. 140–49 (p. 148). Czerwon notes that Berthold’s German sermons demonstrate a more sharply anti-Judaistic tone than his Latin ones and puts this down to fear of the ‘Judaization’ of Christians (p. 141). 17. The only exceptions known to me are direct translations of Matthew 2. 2 (‘Ubi est qui natus est rex Iudaeorum?’), in Meister Eckhart. Die deutschen und lateinischen Werke, hg. i. A. der Deutschen Forschungsgemeinschaft. Die deutschen Werke, ed. and trans. by Josef Quint and others, 5 vols (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer 1971–2003), IV: 1 (2003), 407, l. 2, sermon 102, and John 4. 9 (‘Quomodo tu Iudaeus cum sis, bibere a me poscis, quae sum mulier samaritana?’), in Meister Eckhart. Die deutschen und lateinischen Werke, III (1976), 115, l. 2, sermon 66. In neither case, however, does Eckhart devote any further discussion to the word jude. 18. Meister Eckhart. Die deutschen und lateinischen Werke, II (1971), 528, l. 5—529, l. 2, sermon 53. 19. Meister Eckhart, Sermons and Treatises, trans. by Maurice O’C. Walshe, 3 vols (London: Watkins, 1979–81), I (1979), 177. 20. Freimut Löser, ‘Predigt über Predigt. Meister Eckhart und Johannes Tauler’, in Predigt im Kontext, ed. by Volker Mertens, Hans-Jochen Schiewer, Regina D. Schiewer, and Wolfram Schneider-Lastin (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2013), pp. 155–80 (p. 166). 21. Meister Eckart. Die deutschen und lateinischen Werke, IV: 2 (2003), 774, ll. 69–70, sermon 109. 22. Die Predigten Taulers aus der Engelberger und der Freiburger Handschrift sowie aus Schmidts Abschriften der ehemaligen Straßburger Handschriften, ed. by Ferdinand Vetter, Deutsche Texte des Mittelalters, 11 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag 1910), pp. 103–10, sermon 26. 23. Die Predigten Taulers, p. 104, l. 28—p. 105, l. 6, sermon 26. 24. For example, Die Predigten Taulers, p. 62, l. 34—p. 63, l. 1, sermon 13. 25. Die Predigten Taulers, p. 64, ll. 19–20, sermon 13. 26. Die Predigten Taulers, p. 42, ll. 7–10, sermon 9; p. 57, l. 39—p. 58, l. 3, sermon 12; p. 64, ll. 13–14, sermon 13. 27. Die Predigten Taulers, p. 41, l. 13, sermon 9; p. 408, sermon 76. 28. For a more detailed discussion of these aspects of the image of Jews in Tauler’s sermons, see Louise Gnädinger, Johannes Tauler. Lebenswelt und mystische Lehre (Munich: C. H. Beck, 1993), pp. 49–64. 29. Gnädinger, Johannes Tauler, p. 60. 30. Die Predigten Taulers, p. 84, ll. 6–7, sermon 20; p. 138, ll. 4–5, sermon 36; p. 265, l. 15, sermon 55. 31. Die Predigten Taulers, p. 84, l. 6, sermon 20; p. 104, l. 30, sermon 26, and Die Predigten Taulers, p. 104, l. 32, sermon 26, respectively. 32. Die Predigten Taulers, p. 16, l. 1, sermon 2. 33. The former estimate of two thousand Jews burned to death, which continues to be cited even in recent publications, is no longer tenable; see Gerd Mentgen, Studien zur Geschichte der Juden im mittelalterlichen Elsaß, Forschungen zur Geschichte der Juden, A: Abhandlungen, 2 (Hanover: Hahnsche Buchhandlung, 1995), pp. 133–36. 34. Dietrich Schmidtke, ‘Glossen zu den Sonntagsevangelien’, in Die deutsche Predigt im Mittelalter. Internationales Symposium am Fachbereich Germanistik

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35. 36.

37. 38. 39. 40.

41.

42.

43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49.

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der Freien Universität Berlin vom 3.–6. Oktober 1989, ed. by Volker Mertens and Hans-Jochen Schiewer (Tübingen: Niemeyer 1992), pp. 92–124. Hermann von Fritzlar, Nikolaus von Straßburg, David von Augsburg, ed. by Franz Pfeiffer, Deutsche Mystiker des vierzehnten Jahrhunderts in 2 Bänden, 1 (Leipzig: Göschen’sche Verlagshandlung, 1845), pp. 1–258. We know nothing about who compiled the plenary. In a few manuscripts it is transmitted together with the ‘Buch von der himmlischen Gottheit’ of Friedrich the Carmelite, which is why for a long time he was also attributed with the authorship of the plenary. In the case of the ‘Plenar Friedrichs des Karmeliters’, and the sermons of Konrad Schlatter and Peter of Breslau, I was able to draw on the unpublished material from the ‘Repertorium der ungedruckten deutschsprachigen Predigten des Mittelalters’: Volker Mertens and Hans-Jochen Schiewer, Repertorium der ungedruckten deutschsprachigen Predigten des Mittelalters. Der Berliner Bestand. Bd. 1: Die Handschriften aus dem Straßburger Dominikanerinnenkloster St. Nikolaus in undis und benachbarte Provenienzen (in two parts). I am grateful to Hans-Jochen Schiewer for providing me with the typescript. The survey includes only sermons from the winter part of the sermon cycle. This is already pointed out by Mikosch, ‘Von alter ê’, pp. 100–36. Quoted according to Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B III, 56. On antiJewish preaching on the theme of the destruction of Jerusalem, see the chapter by Jussi Hanska in this volume. Werner Meyer, ‘Benötigt, geduldet, verachtet und verfolgt: Zur Geschichte der Juden in Basel zwischen 1200 und 1800’, in Acht Jahrhunderte Juden in Basel. Zweihundert Jahre Israelitische Gemeinde in Basel, ed. by Heiko Haumann (Basle: Schwabe Verlag, 2005), pp. 13–56, and ‘Die Basler Juden im Mittelalter’, [accessed 30 January 2013]. Ursula Lehmann, ‘ “Fast das Zentrum des Christentums”—Basel als Stadt des Konzils’, in Konrad Witz, ed. by Bodo Brinkmann and others, Ausstellungskatalog Kunstmuseum Basel (Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2011), pp. 23–31 (p. 28). Detailed information about Konrad Schlatter can be found in Bernhard Neidiger, ‘[Dominican convent of] Basel’, in Helvetia Sacra. Abteilung IV: Die Orden mit Augustinerregel. Band 5: Die Dominikaner und Dominikanerinnen in der Schweiz. Teil 1, ed. by the curatorium of the Helvetia Sacra, sub-ed. by Petra Zimmer with the support of Brigitte Degler-Spengler (Basle: Schwabe, 1999), pp. 188–284 (pp. 249–52); Monika Costard, ‘Zwischen Mystik und Moraldidaxe. Überlegungen zur Seelsorge in Frauenklöstern des 15. Jahrhunderts am Beispiel der Predigten des Fraterherren Johannes Veghe und Konrad Schlatters OP’, Ons geestelijk Erf, 69 (1995), 235–58 (pp. 243–44); and Hans-Jochen Schiewer, ‘Schlatter, Konrad’, in Die deutsche Literatur des Mittelalters. Verfasserlexikon, ed. by Kurt Ruh and Burghard Wachinger, 14 vols (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1978–2008), VIII (1992), cols 706–09. Monika Costard in Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, introduction to B XXX. Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B XXX, 46. Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B XXX, 58. Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B XXX, 59. Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B XXX, 24. Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B XXX, 24. The legend of the Jewish boy, which perhaps inspired Schlatter’s exemplum, is first transmitted in a German sermon in a thirteenth-century fragment: Regina D. Schiewer, Die deutsche Predigt um 1200. Ein Handbuch (Berlin: De

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50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56.

57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62.

63.

Regina D. Schiewer Gruyter, 2010), p. 67. On this legend, which probably dates originally from the sixth century, see Cordula Henning von Lange, ‘daz ez zu rucke trete von der ubeltete und Marien vervluchte. “Das Jüdel”—Judenfiguren in christlichen Legenden’, in Juden in der deutschen Literatur des Mittelalters. Religiöse Konzepte—Feindbilder—Rechtfertigungen, ed. by Ursula Schulze (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 2002), pp. 135–62, and Heike A. Burmeister, ‘Der Judenknabe’. Studien und Texte zu einem mittelalterlichen Marienmirakel in deutscher Überlieferung, Göppinger Arbeiten zur Germanistik, 654 (Göppingen: Kümmerle, 1998). For a synopsis of the ‘Jewish boy miracle’ and more information on Jews in Marian miracle stories, see also the chapter by Kati Ihnat in this volume. Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B XXX, 58. Quoted from Berlin, Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin—Preußischer Kulturbesitz, Ms. germ. quart. 30, fols 70v–71r. Ms. germ. quart. 30, fol. 72v. As the Jews had been definitively driven out of Cologne in 1424, Schlatter’s reference to Jews cannot be interpreted as an indication that the sermon collection was composed during his period in that city. Mentgen, Studien zur Geschichte der Juden, pp. 169–79. Hans-Jochen Schiewer and Volker Mertens, ‘Peter von Breslau’, in Die deutsche Literatur des Mittelalters. Verfasserlexikon, VII (1989), cols 429–32. An introduction to the collection provides us with ample information about time and place of the sermons’ setting: ‘Disse predigen het geton der erwúro dige geistliche herre vnd vatter lesemeister bruder Peter von Presszloˇ we ein o andehtiger getruwer bihtvatter der swestren des closters zu Sancte Nicolaus o an den vnden zu Strosszburg in dem jor do man zalt von Christus geburt M cccc vnd xlv [These sermons were preached by the honourable spiritual master and father lector brother Peter of Breslau (who was) a devout faithful father confessor to the sisters of the convent in St. Nikolaus in undis in Strasbourg in the year, when one counts 1445 from Christ’s birth]’ (Berlin, Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin—Preußischer Kulturbesitz, Ms. germ. quart. 22, fol. 3r; quoted on the basis of the transcription in Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B IV, 2). Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B IV, 11, 12, 15, and 18. Ms. germ. quart. 22, fol. 269r; quoted on the basis of the transcription in Mertens and Schiewer, Repertorium, B IV, 25. As is well known, the term ‘Semite’ derives from the name of Noah’s son, Shem. See Regina D. Schiewer, ‘Sermons for Nuns of the Dominican Observance Movement’, in Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed. by Carolyn Muessig, Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History, 90 (Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 75–92. Until now, scholars have not been aware of this transmission of the sermons of Nikolaus von Straßburg. Stephen Mossman and Nigel F. Palmer, ‘Ulrich der Johanniter vom Grünen Wörth and His Adaptation of the “Liber amoris”: A Critical Edition of the “Hoheliedpredigt” and of Its German Precursor “Die Höhenflüge der Seele” ’, in Schreiben und Lesen in der Stadt. Literaturbetrieb im spätmittelalterlichen Straßburg, ed. by Stephen Mossman, Felix Heinzer, and Nigel Palmer, Kulturtopographie des alemannischen Raums, 4 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2012), pp. 469–520 (pp. 485–86). Christine Michler, ‘Erhard Hel’, in Die deutsche Literatur des Mittelalters. Verfasserlexikon, III (1981), cols 942–43, and Franz Egger, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Predigerordens. Die Reform des Basler Konvents 1429 und die Stellung des Ordens am Basler Konzil 1431–1448, Europäische Hochschulschriften, Series III, 467 (Bern: Peter Lang, 1991), pp. 224–25.

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64. Kalteisen was the emissary of the archbishop of Mainz and a supporter of the papal emissary Nicholas Cusanus. 65. Franz-Josef Worstbrock and Dagmar Ladisch-Grube, ‘Himmel (Hymel), Johannes, von Weits (Johannes Coeli)’, in Die deutsche Literatur des Mittelalters. Verfasserlexikon, IV (1983), cols 24–27. 66. Jaroslav Kadlec, ‘Nikolaus von Jauer (Jawor; N. Magni, N. Groß, N. von Heidelberg)’, in Die deutsche Literatur des Mittelalters. Verfasserlexikon, VI (1987), cols 1078–81; Andreas Rüther, ‘Nikolaus Magni (Groß) von Jauer (um 1355–1435)’, in Schlesier des 12. bis 20. Jahrhunderts, ed. by Joachim Bahlcke, Schlesische Lebensbilder, 9 (Insingen: Degener, 2007), pp. 35–40. 67. On these sermons and their relationship to the sermons known as the ‘Basler Reformpredigten’, see Regina D. Schiewer, ‘Der think tank “Frauenseelsorge” des Basler Konzils und der Konziliarist Heinrich Kalteisen’ (forthcoming). 68. Regina D. Schiewer, ‘Eine deutschsprachige Überlieferung des Miraculum I des Wichmann von Arnstein’, Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum und deutsche Literatur, 131 (2002), 436–53. 69. Hans-Jochen Schiewer, ‘Innovation und Konventionalisierung. Wirnts “Wigalois” und der Umgang mit Autor und Werk’, in Literatur und Wandmalerei II. Konventionalität und Konversation, ed. by Eckhart Conrad Lutz, Johanna Thali, and René Wetzel (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 2005), pp. 65–83 (p. 80), and Nigel F. Palmer and Hans-Jochen Schiewer, ‘Literarische Topographie des deutschsprachigen Südwestens im 14. Jahrhunderts’, Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, 122 (2003), 178–202 (pp. 184–91). 70. An edition of the exemplum can be found in the appendix to this chapter. 71. The English summary is based on that by Balász Nemes in his essay ‘Dis buch ist iohannes schedelin. Die Handschriften eines Colmarer Bürgers aus der Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts und ihre Verflechtungen mit dem Literaturangebot der Dominikanerobservanz’, in Kulturtopographie des deutschsprachigen Südwestens im späteren Mittelalter. Studien und Texte, ed. by Barbara Fleith and René Wetzel, Kulturtopographie des alemannischen Raums, 1 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2009), pp. 157–205 (p. 177 n. 81). 72. Matthew 21. 12–17; Mark 11. 12–21; Luke 19. 45–48; and John 2. 13–16. 73. Sermons on the crusades are also absent from German-language sermon literature. The only ‘crusade sermon’ as such is the extremely free translation into German of a charter in which Pope Clement IV addresses the leaders of the mendicant orders in 1265 and requires them to exhort their numbers to preach the crusade. In the translation, the heathen unbelievers are described as worse than the Jews, because the Jews had only inflicted suffering on Christ in his human nature, whereas the unbelievers are now profaning his divinity. This direct juxtaposition of Jews and heathens is not found in the original Latin text. Both the Latin text and the German translation refer to the Jews making a specific contribution to the liberation of the Holy Land by ordaining that all pledged goods against which crusaders had borrowed money from Jews were to be returned to the crusaders. Friedrich Wilhelm, Corpus der altdeutschen Originalurkunden. Bd. 1: 1200–1282 (Lahr: Schauenburg, 1932), pp. 136– 38, no. 93, [accessed 30 January 2013]. 74. The Mongol invasions of the thirteenth century, for instance, also go virtually unmentioned in both the German and the Latin sermon (with the exception of the crusade sermon cited in the preceding note). Given that the ‘Speculum historiale’ of Vincent of Beauvais—both conceived and widely used for the preparation of sermons, among other purposes—provides detailed information about the Mongols, we can assume that this information was indeed used in sermons. See Rudolf Kilian Weigand, ‘Die Mongolen in Nürnberg.

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75.

76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105. 106. 107. 108. 109. 110. 111. 112. 113. 114. 115. 116. 117.

Regina D. Schiewer Zur Expansion des Kanonwissens über den Osten in Enzyklopädien für die Predigt’, in Religiosità e civiltà. Conoscenze, confronti, influssi reciproci tra le religioni (secoli X–XIV), ed. by Giancarlo Andenna (Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 2013), pp. 133–49. For the portrayal of natural disasters in sermons, see Jussi Hanska, Strategies of Sanity and Survival: Religious Responses to Natural Disasters in the Middle Ages (Helsinki: Lehmanns, 2002). Werner Williams-Krapp, ‘Imitando gestus iudei in omnibus. Zu den Judendarstellungen in den Benediktbeurer Spielen des 13. Jahrhunderts’, in Das Wormser Passionsspiel. Versuch, die großen Bilder zu lesen, ed. by Volker Gallé, Klaus Wolf and Ralf Rothenbusch (Worms: Worms-Verlag, 2013), pp. 145–77. Parallel transmission: Colmar, Bibliothèque Municipale, Ms. CPC 279, fols 179r–90r, here: fols 187r–89v (siglum Co). Du bis min sun not in Co. kint] sun Co. kint] sun Co. sines] des Co. lieben not in Co. Nun] vnd Co. o zu] not in Co. den juden not in Co. stat] ist Co. es] er. hat es . . . mir geseit] seit mir es meister dietrich der vnser wirdiger prouincial was der lasz es selb mit sinem munde Co. günstik und geheim] hold vnd geheimlichetent sich zesammen Co. sinen] allen sinen Co. o zu sinem glauben brecht] gezúge in sinen glouben vnd Co. reden. Dá] vnd wurdent mit enander redende daz Co. cristen] Cristen man Co. o im das zu sagen] das er Jm es seite Co. der jud] er Co. gedorft] getorste Co. Und warent die ewartten] Der ewarten warent Co. auch not in Co. o o buch] buch also Co. und] vnd heisset Co. und an bettent not in Co. kament] bottent Co. alle not in Co. o muter] sin müter Co. ist] sie Co. etlich] ein Co. Ettlich die sprechent] So sprechent die andern er sie Josephs sun . so spricht er Co. Maria] vnser frouwe Co. diser] dirre ihesus Co. im not in Co. o muter namen] siner müter Co. geboren not in Co. Maria] sú Co. gebar] gebar in magtwesend . vnd trüg Co. er not in Co. wirckt] wurkte Co. sinen gnaden] siner gnäd Co. vor langest alles] alles vor Co.

Jews in Medieval German Sermons 118. 119. 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126. 127. 128. 129. 130. 131. 132. 133. 134. 135. 136. 137. 138. 139. 140.

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es not in Co. sy not in Co. süssiclichen] süssiglich vnd wisslich Co. hin] not in Co. under ain ander] vmb Co. das] es Co. Jhesus erwelt mit gemeinem willen und rett] alle mit gemeynem munde Jhesum erwählt Co. corrected from dem. cristenlichest] Christenheit Co. man] man balde Co. und] und vorht das in die iuden toten und Co. sy] die Juden Co. o zu den juden not in Co. hab] hab es Co. disz] dis besenden Co. juden] Juden darumb. das] und das Co. nie] anders niemer Co. also not in Co. kaufften] kauffenden Co. geseit] geseit hat Co. e siner götlichen er] der gunlichi Co. Darum so] dannen Co.

Appendix Exemplum from the Sermon on the Octave of Christmas, from Ms. germ. fol. 741 (fols 20rb–24vb)76

[23va] (. . .) Nun spricht der vatter: ‘Filius meus es tu’ etc. ‘Du bist min sun77. Ich gebar dich hútt.’ So spricht unser liebe frow: ‘Du bist min kint.’ Er ist des vatters kint78 nach der gothait und ist unser frawen kint79 nach der menschait. Er sitzet nach der gothait in der schosz sines80 vatters und sitzet o nach der menschait in der schosz siner muter. Und als er ist des vatters sun nach der gothait, so ist er ain schöpfer aller ding. Und als er ist unser lieben frowen sun nach der menschait, also ist er ain widermacher aller ding. Er ist des ewigen vatters sun, got und mensch. Und ist unser lieben81 frowen sun, mensch und got. o Nun82 hoe rent zu,83 wie disz bewert wart von unseren fynden den juden.84 o o Esz stat85 geschriben in dem hoff zu rom an ainesz cardinalsz buch, und hat es86 maister Dietherich, der unser wirdiger provincial waz, mit sinem mund selber gelesen und mir geseit87: Es waz ain cristen man und ain jud. Die warent ain ander gar günstig o o und gehaim88 und wuchs die liebe also vast, das es dar zu kam, das ieglicher o o sinen89 flisz dar an leitt, daz er den anderen zu sinem glauben brecht.90 Zu o ainer zit sossen sy by ain ander [23vb] reden. Dá91 sprach der jud zu dem cristen92: ‘Du bist mir so recht lieb, das ich dir das best ding wil sagen von Christo, das du je hast gehört.’ Do wart der cristen man gar frá und bat in o im das zu sagen.93 Dá sprach der jud94: ‘Du solt das wissen: Also ir jetz hant geschriben an úweren bücher alle bebst und kaiser und wie jeglicher hiesz und in welchen ziten er regniert und was under im geschach, also hant wir an unseren biechern geschriben von Dauidtz ziten alle ewartten, die unter unsz bischofflichen gewalt hetten und wie sy hiessen und von welchem geschlecht sy warent. Wenn es gedorft95 niemen kainen ewartten welen, denn von der ewartten geschlecht. Und warent die ewartten96 vier und zwainzig und solt ir auch97 nit me sin. Und wenn ir ainer starb, so erwelten die andern ewartten mit gemainer cur ainen andern an sin stat. Und schrib man dann in o das buch98: “Der ewartt ist dot in dem jar und hiesz also und was von dem o geschlecht und hiesz sin vatter und sin muter also. Und an des stat haben o o wir den erwelt zu ainem ewartten, der haiset also und99 sin vatter und muter also und ist von dem geschlecht.” Und in den ziten, dá úwer Jhesus, den ir hant und an bettent100 fir got uff ertrich gieng und prediget, dá starb der

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ewarten [24ra] ainer. Und dá sy ainen andern soltent welen, dá kament101 sy o alle úber ain, daz sy Jhesus nomen zu ainem ewarten, wenn er was also wisz und sin ler gieng im also gar sússiclichen von sinem mund, das er sy alle102 wirdig ducht, das er ain ewart wer und bischofflichen gewalt hette. Und da sy in aller erwelt hetten, dá sprachent sy: “Nun solten wir anschriben, wie o sin vatter und muter103 hiessen, und von welchem geschlecht er wer. Dar an o irren wir. Wir wissen wol, das sin muter haisset Maria. Aber wer sin vatter ist,104 daz wissent wir nit. Etlich105 sprechent, er sy dauitz sun. Ettlich die sprechent,106 er sy gottes sun und sy nit von diser welt, er sy von dem himel.” o o Und wurdent zu ratt, das sy nach siner muter santent. Und dá Maria107 fir o sy kam, dá sprachent sy: “Fraw, ist diser108 din sun? Wir hant in erwelt zu ainem ewarten und solten im109 an schriben sinen namen und sines vatters o und muter110 namen und von welchem geschlecht er geboren111 wer.” Dá sprach Maria112: “Er ist min sun. Ich gebar in maget113 in minem lib und er114 o lag by minem hertzen und alles, das je kint von siner muter enpfieng, daz enpfieng er von mir. Und alles, das dá geschach, das wirckt115 der hailig gaist mit sinen gnaden116 sússiclich in mir. [24rb] Und disz ist vor langest alles117 gewissaget und hat ir es118 an úwern biechern geschriben.” Und sy119 rett also süssiclichen120 do mit inen und gab in die warhait allen also aigentlio chen zu erkennen, das sy sprachent: “Fraw, gang hin.”121 Und fragtent dá under ain ander122 ainen jeglichen und sprachent: “Glaubst du das?”123 Da o glaubtent sy es alle und schribent dá an daz buch also: “Der ewart ist tod in disem jar und an des stat hant wir Jhesus erwelt mit gemeinem willen und o rett.124 Des muter haisset Maria, die maget. Und sin vatter ist der himelsch vatter, got von himelrich, ain schoe pfer aller ding.” Also war offenlich bewert von der125 ewarten mund, das er ist got und mensch. Und wie wol wir diss wissent, so migent wirsz doch nit glauben.’ Und da der jud dem cristen disz geseit, das geschach under dem kaiser Theodosyo, der was der cristenlichest126 fúrst, den die welt je gewan. Nun o ilte der cristen man127 zu dem kaiser und seit im die mer, die im der jud geseit hett. Der kaiser war gar frow und gebot den juden allen, das sy fir in kemen. Da das der jud vernam, dá wist er wol, daz es der cristen geseit hett und128 o ilte bald und warnet sy129 und sprach zu den juden130: ‘Ich han das geseit o und hab131 da fir, [24va] das disz132 alles dar uff gang.’ Do gehubent sich die juden133 gar übel und hiessent ainen grossen rost machen und wurffent das o buch dar ein und verbrantent es vor iren augen. Dá daz der kaiser vernam, dá hiesz er anschriben, wie es alles ergangen was. Und ich hab es sicherlich dar fir, das134 es also miess sin. Wenn die juden hetten unsern herrn nie135 vertragen, das er also136 offenlich geprediget hett in dem tempel, und die kaufften137 und verkauffenden usz geworffen hett, wenn das er von in erwelt was o zu ainem ewarten. Und das hat der wissag vor lang geseit,138 da er sprach: ‘Tu es sacerdos in eternum secundum ordinem Melchisedech.’ ‘Du bist der ewig briester nach der ordnung Melchisedech.’ Und wie wol die juden disz wisent, so múgent sy es doch nit glauben. Und ist in daz beschehen von o ainem fluch, den gab in Ysayas, der prophet, dá er unsern herren sach sitzen

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in siner götlichen er.139 Do flucht er in, das sy gesehende nit gesehen (Is 6. 9) o und die warhait nimer erkanten. Und den fluch gab er in von drier hant súnd wegen, dá mit sy in den ziten um giengen. Darum so140 wurt hundert haiden e bekert denn ain jud. Well, our Father says: ‘Filius meus es tu’ etc. ‘You are my son. Today I have given birth to you.’ And our beloved Lady says: ‘You are my child.’ He is the Father’s child according to his divine nature, and he is our Lady’s child according to his human nature. According to his divine nature he sits in his father’s lap, and according to his human nature he sits in his mother’s lap. And because he is his father’s son according to his divine nature, he is the creator of all. And because he is our beloved Lady’s son according to his human nature, he shall make all things new. He is the eternal Father’s son, God and man. And he is our beloved Lady’s son, man and God. Now listen, how this was proven by our enemies, the Jews. It is written in a cardinal’s book at the court in Rome. And Master Dietrich, who was our worthy provincial superior, read it with his own mouth and told me about it: There were a Christian and a Jew. They were very fond of each other and were very close and their love grew so great that it came to the point that each of them wanted to convert the other to his own faith. Once they sat together and talked. Then the Jew said to the Christian: ‘I am so very fond of you that I shall tell you the best thing about Christ that you ever have heard.’ The Christian was very glad and asked him to tell him about it. Then the Jew said: ‘You shall know it: Just as you nowadays have recorded in your books all the popes and emperors, and what each of them was called and when he reigned and what happened under him, in the same way, from David’s times onwards we have recorded in our books all priests who had episcopal power among us, and what they were called and to which lineage they belonged. Because nobody was allowed to elect a priest except from the priests’ tribe. And there were twenty-four priests and there should not be more than that. And when one of them died, the other priests chose another one in his place in a unanimous election. And they then wrote in the book: “The priest died in such and such a year and was called so and so, and he came from such and such a lineage, and his father and mother were called so and so. And in his place we have elected as a priest so and so, and his father and his mother were called so and so, and he comes from such and such a lineage.” And at the time when your Jesus, whom you hold and worship as God, walked on earth and preached, one of the priests died. And when they were expected to elect another one, they all agreed to have Jesus as a priest, because he was so wise and his teachings came so sweetly from his mouth that they all considered him worthy to become a priest and to have episcopal power. And when they had all elected him, they said: “Now we should write down what his father and mother were called and from which lineage he comes. This we do not know. We do know that his

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mother is called Mary. But we do not know who his father is. Some say he was David’s son. Some say he was the Son of God and not of this world, but from heaven.” And they decided to send for his mother. And when Mary came before them, they said: “Woman, is this your son? We have elected him as a priest and we need to write down his name and his father’s and mother’s names and from which lineage he was born.” Then Mary said: “He is my son, I conceived him as a virgin in my womb and he lay close to my heart, and all that a child ever received from a mother, he received from me. And everything that happened was the sweet work of the Holy Spirit, of his grace. And this has long been predicted and it is written in your books.” And she spoke with them so sweetly and let them see the truth so properly that they said: “Woman, go your way.” And then they all asked one another: “Do you believe this?” Everyone there believed it, and they wrote in the book the following: “The priest died in such and such a year, and in his place we have elected Jesus with united will and word. His mother is called Mary, the virgin. And his father is the heavenly Father, God of the kingdom of heaven, creator of all things.” Thus it was publicly proved from the mouth of the priests that he is God and man. And although we know it, we still cannot believe it.’ And when the Jew told this to the Christian, it was in the time of the emperor Theodosius, who was the most Christian ruler the world ever knew. Now the Christian man hurried to the emperor and recounted the tale that the Jew had disclosed to him. The emperor was very happy and commanded all Jews to come to him. When the Jew heard this, he knew that the Christian had told [the story], and he hurried quickly and warned them and said to the Jews: ‘I told this and I think this all is due to it.’ Then the Jews got very disturbed and they had a pyre piled up and threw the book in it and burned it before their eyes. When the emperor heard of it, he commanded that everything that had occurred be written down. And I am certain that it must have happened this way, because the Jews would not have allowed our master to preach openly in the temple and to throw out those who were buying and selling there, if he had not been elected a priest by them. And this was predicted long before by the prophet, when he said: ‘Tu es sacerdos in eternum secundum ordinem Melchisedech.’ ‘You are priest forever after the order of Melchisedek.’ And although the Jews know this, they cannot believe it. And this derived from a malediction that was uttered by Isaiah, the prophet, when he saw our Lord sitting in his divine glory. He cursed them then that they would see, but would not perceive and would never recognize the truth [Isaiah 6. 9]. And he uttered the malediction because of three kinds of sin, in which they lived in those times. Therefore a hundred heathens are more easily converted than one Jew.

4

Preaching about an Absent Minority Medieval Danish Sermons and Jews Jonathan Adams

JEWS IN MEDIEVAL DENMARK The most noteworthy aspect of preaching about Jews in medieval Denmark is surely the fact that there were no Jews in Denmark, or indeed in the rest of Scandinavia, at the time.1 Jews had lived in Normandy since Roman times, and there is no reason to assume they disappeared from there under the Danish Vikings or the Norman dukes, but there is no evidence of a Jewish community in Denmark proper until just before the beginning of the seventeenth century.2 Images of Jews from as early as the twelfth century can be found in wall-paintings and carvings in around thirty churches in Denmark.3 Ulla Haastrup has used this source material to argue for a Jewish presence in Denmark during the Middle Ages by pointing out how the clothes worn by Jews in some of these paintings were updated to depict innovations in the contemporary clothing of European Jews.4 However, the conclusion that these alterations can be traced to clothing fashions among Jews actually living in Denmark, rather than to similar changes in art depictions abroad, is far from accepted.5 In order to depict Jews, the painters were making use of a visual code—in effect, a degrading caricature—long established in Latin Europe, and the artists did not therefore have to have seen a real Jew in order to paint one. Indeed, the appearance of Jews in church wall-paintings may be no more evidence for their presence in Denmark than depictions of mermaids, centaurs, and dragons are for theirs. Nevertheless, we do find what appears to be the word ‘juthe [Jew]’, used as a byname among lists of personal names found in various registers and deeds from the Middle Ages6—for example, ‘Her Johannis Jødis [John the Jew]’ (Jutland, 1248);7 ‘Jacobus Jøthæ [Jacob the Jew]’ (Copenhagen, c. 1370);8 ‘Iacop Yode [Jacob the Jew]’ (a bell-founder from Stralsund whose work is found in several churches in Denmark; fifteenth century);9 ‘Jacob Jothe borgare i Lund [Jacob the Jew, burgher in Lund]’ (also a bell-founder; Lund, 7 March 1425);10 and ‘Anders Iøe [Andrew the Jew]’ and ‘Matz Iøæ [Matthew the Jew]’ (Tranekær, Langeland, 1500). However, personal names—nicknames and bynames in particular—are notoriously misleading and difficult to interpret, and there is no reason to assume that these men were necessarily Jews. Perhaps the bynames are meant as nothing

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more than nicknames referring to the bearers’ perceived Jewish behaviour or appearance, possibly based on anti-Jewish stereotypes, or perhaps these men were (descended from) Jewish converts to Christianity.11 Furthermore, the word ‘juthe [Jew]’ (cf. modern Danish ‘jøde’) is orthographically and phonemically very close to the word ‘jute [Jute, someone from Jutland]’ (cf. modern Danish ‘jyde’) and the names mentioned earlier could simply be corrupt or dialectal versions of the word for Jutlander—for example, ‘Matz Iøæ’ should perhaps be interpreted as ‘Matthew from Jutland’.12 The artistic evidence for a Jewish presence in Denmark during the Middle Ages is thus rather weak, and the anthroponomastic evidence remains inconclusive. Even if there were one or two occasional Jews passing through or even resident in the country, it would not change the bigger picture. Officially, Jews were not admitted into Denmark until Christian IV invited Sephardi Jews from Amsterdam and Hamburg to settle in Glückstadt in 1622. Before this time, a Jew would have required special permission to enter the country, although even after this date under King Frederik III’s national law of Denmark from 1651, any Jew found without a special entry permit would be fined one thousand rigsdaler, which, incidentally, was the maximum fine that could be paid for any crime in Denmark at the time.13 There is no reason to assume that the situation was any different before the seventeenth century. There may possibly have been Jewish merchants and traders travelling to and through Denmark during the Middle Ages, but they have left no trace and there certainly was no resident population.14 Yet the lack of a Jewish community in Denmark does not mean that Jews are absent from medieval Danish artistic and literary works; indeed, Jews appear in many cultural, literary, and theological works in Denmark, albeit as fantastical, fabricated beings, and were as such very much alive and present in the mentalité of the Danes. Descriptions of and stories about Jews abound in the extant literature, especially from within the religious sphere, and they give the impression that hatred of Jews, and what they were believed to represent, was rife.15 This is hardly surprising given the predominantly anti-Jewish climate elsewhere in northern Europe. The very international nature of the Church and of literary and cultural trends generally during the Middle Ages greatly influenced Denmark, a country that for much of its ecclesiastical history had belonged to the archbishopric of Bremen-Hamburg. In Scandinavia, the figure of the Jew was largely a stereotype adopted from abroad, where representations of Jews—with the exception of some figures from the Old Testament—tended on the whole to be negative. After the First Crusade and the Rhineland massacres of 1096, these representations became even more sinister: Jews were no longer just blind and obstinate—they were more actively menacing and dangerous. This is the legacy inherited by Denmark, where ‘imaginary’ Jews were depicted in devotional and didactic works as examples to Christian audiences of evil, ignorance, and obstinacy, while little mention was made of actual ‘real’ Jews living elsewhere in the contemporary

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world. It may seem remarkable that the Danes insistently discussed and defamed a minority, absent in time and geography, but the Jew as fictitious entity and model for interpretation was considered an important—perhaps the most important—lesson for medieval Christians from the distant past. MEDIEVAL SERMONS IN DANISH As vernacular literature in Denmark was aimed at a broader audience than just those able to read and understand Latin, it better demonstrates the widespread attitudes, beliefs, and assumptions that cut across all social groups in the majority population than do the authoritative writings in Latin of the religious establishment. Indeed, the conception of the Jew that emerged from these vernacular texts and other popularly accessible works, such as church art, became one of the basic convictions of Danes in the medieval period.16 By considering vernacular preaching, we can see one of the most pervasive and important ways in which public opinion was shaped among the illiterate population. Although sermons would have been preached at least once a week in parish churches across the land,17 we unfortunately today do not have a wealth of extant sermon texts from medieval Denmark. In fact, there are only these six surviving manuscripts containing sermon material written in the vernacular: • Copenhagen, The Arnamagnæan Collection, AM 783, 4°, fols 263r–68v (c. 1500) • Copenhagen, The Arnamagnæan Collection, AM 76, 8°, fols 128r–41v (c. 1452–67) • Vienna, Austrian National Library, Cod. Vind. 13013 (fifteenth century) • Copenhagen, The Royal Library, GkS 1390, 4° (c. 1450) • Uppsala, Uppsala University Library, Cod. Ups. C 56 (c. 1450) • Christiern Pedersen’s Book of Miracle Sermons (1515)18 There may be a number of reasons for this meagre quantity of extant medieval sermon material. Firstly, the often rather ad hoc nature of preaching means that there is frequently no written record. Secondly, the destruction of monastic libraries in the post-Reformation era, as well as the fires that destroyed important manuscript collections, particularly in Copenhagen in the eighteenth century, means that many sources have been lost to us. A third complicating factor is that although preaching to the people—ad populum—would have been in the vernacular, the written records are often in Latin. This has left a small corpus of vernacular texts for the study of medieval Danish sermons, and it should be borne in mind that they may therefore not be entirely representative.

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Of the six manuscripts listed here, the first (AM 783, 4°) contains no references to Jews and the second and third (AM 76, 8°, and Cod. Vind. 13013) to exemplary figures in the Old Testament only,19 but the other three include descriptions of Jews and their alleged behaviour in detail. Nonetheless, it is important to note from the outset that the Jews in these texts are not the main concern of the sermons—the sermons are not about Jews. That said, the Jews that appear in them form a crucial reference point for the interpretation of the sermons’ themata. This chapter presents these sermons and their Jewish stereotypes before discussing how and why these figures are used in a time and space with no Jewish presence. CHRISTIERN PEDERSEN’S BOOK OF MIRACLE SERMONS We shall begin with the youngest of the extant sermon collections, Christiern Pedersen’s Book of Miracle Sermons from 1515.20 Comprising 211 folios, it was at the time the largest book ever printed in Danish. Inspired by Guillermus Parisiensis’ Postilla super Epistolas et Evangelia (1437), Pedersen’s sermon collection is divided into two parts: winter (First Sunday in Advent until Easter) and summer (the remainder of the year). Each Sunday’s pericope (quoted in Danish) is followed by an ‘Vdtydning [explanation]’ and one or more exempla in the form of a ‘Iertegen [miracle story]’. The book was exceedingly popular, even after the Reformation and into the eighteenth century, and appears to have been used primarily as devotional reading for the home rather than in church.21 Pedersen was born around 1480 in Helsingør, Sjælland, and studied in Roskilde as well as at universities in Greifswald and Paris. He became first a canon and subsequently the chancellor to the archbishop and chaplain to King Christian II, whom he followed into exile after a series of revolts. Later, after being pardoned by King Frederik I, Pedersen settled in Malmö, Skåne, where he worked as an author and printer. He later converted to Lutheranism and played a central role in the Reformation in Denmark, not least as one of the translators of Bible into Danish.22 The Danish medieval sermon-studies scholar Anne Riising has written that there is no hatred directed towards the Jews in Christiern Pedersen’s sermons,23 but I feel that this statement is in urgent need of qualification, if not outright dismissal. The Jews as a people are consistently presented in entirely negative terms, and there is certainly no sense of rapprochement or warmth directed towards them. Pedersen’s descriptions of Jews in Passion sermons are especially full of spite, loathing, and hatred.24 The sermon collection follows the standard contemporary interpretation of the events defining the supersessionist relationship between the Jews and the Church: The Jews were once God’s chosen people,25 who were sent Jesus,26 whom they subsequently rejected.27 However, the Jews did not just reject Jesus—they despised, mocked, and hated him; their cruelty

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is especially highlighted in the sermon for Good Friday, which is discussed in more detail below. Contemporary Jews in Pedersen’s sermons are described as being punished for their obstinacy,28 and in more than one sermon as being greedy, criminal usurers.29 Although their spiritual marginalization is their own fault, Jews do retain the possibility of salvation through Jesus, a conversion that Pedersen, in keeping with the eschatological thinking of the time (based on St Augustine and Romans 11. 26),30 seems to expect will happen one day in the future.31 However, apart from the brief warnings against Jewish moneylenders,32 Pedersen’s sermons do not make any further mention of contemporary Jews. Despite having spent many years abroad, ‘real’ Jews do not seem to interest him. He prefers to use the image of the Jews and their lost relationship with God as a means of encouraging ‘bad’ Christians to a life of piety and devotion and to remind his audience of the reality of God’s anger and punishment.33 Pedersen’s Good Friday sermon takes its pericope from John 18–19. Rather than being a translation, it is a vernacular paraphrase that adds a number of details and interpretative interpolations not found in the Gospel text. For example, when the Jews call for Jesus to be crucified in accordance with their law (John 19. 7–8), Pilate becomes afraid, not of the Jews, but of God. As Pedersen explains, Her offuer sige doctores at han icke reddiss for iøderness low thii han vor inthet plectig vnder hende Men han begynthe at frøcte effter iøderniss ord at han skulle vere gwdz søn Oc at han hagde saa ladet hustruget oc kroned hannem34 On this subject scholars say that he was not afraid of the Jews’ law, because he was not bound by it; but he began to fear the Jews’ words, that he, Jesus, was in fact the son of God, and that he had had him scourged and crowned. In Pedersen’s paraphrase of John’s account of the Passion and the Crucifixion, we learn that the Jews acted as a crowd, they shouted and yelled, often en masse, they performed their actions cruelly and harshly, they are powerful and dangerous, but they are held under the control of their religious leaders and obedient to their written law.35 The expositio develops the theme of Jewish cruelty described in John by adding further examples not found in the Gospel text. For example, after the arrest of Jesus in Gethsemane, the Jews took him to the city: Her scriffue somme doctores ath den tiid de komme till den aa som løber mellem staden oc oliueti bierg offuer huilken der laa en spong oc bro som de pleyde at gonge offuer paa naar det vor høyt vande Der slebede de vor herre vden faare i vandet paa de hwasse stene meth

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rebene som de hagde om hanss halss oc liff Oc røcthe hannem om kwld i vandet en || dog det vor icke swarlige dybt Der slebede de hannem bort oc igen till han vor saa gaat som halff død36 Some scholars write about this that when they came to the river [Qidron] that flows between the town and the Mount of Olives, over which there was a wooden gangway and bridge that they used to cross when the water level was high, they dragged our Lord alongside in the water on the sharp stones with ropes around his neck and waist, and they pushed him over in the water although it was not very deep. They dragged him back and forth until he was as good as half dead.37 Another example of this sort of addition concerns the identities of the servants who tied Jesus to a stone pillar and tortured him, which are to remain secret until Doomsday: Da ginge de ypperste iøder bort oc lode hannem sette i eth fengzell som vor i en keldere oc lode binde hannem der til en sten pillere oc befole nogre obenbare bewebnede skalke at bliffue hoss hannem oc tage hannem vell vare ath han engelediss vndkomme skulde Hwilke skalke som giorde hannem der hemmelig pine som han icke obenbare will før paa den strenge domme dag38 Then the highly ranked Jews left and had him put in a prison that was in a cellar and had him tied to a stone pillar and ordered some blatant armed thugs to stay with him and guard him well so that he should not escape. He will not say who these thugs were that subjected him to secret torture until the harsh day of judgement. The torture of Jesus at the hands of the Jews is repeatedly returned to in the expositio. The actual crucifiers, however, are referred to as ‘bødlene [the executioners]’, and not specifically as the Jews, or indeed the Romans for that matter, although it is clearly stated that the Jews led Jesus to Golgotha.39 Even during the raising of the cross everything is done to make the act as cruel and inhuman an event as possible: Der de hagde saa fest hannem till korsset da opregsde de deth met hanss verdige legeme Och lode det saa falde ned till iorden igen met reth foract at de der met hanss pine for øge skulde Siden reyssde de korsset op igen oc støde det saa haardelige ned i hwlen som det skulde stonde med hanss suare legeme40 When they had fixed him to the cross, they raised it together with his honourable body, and they then let it fall down to the ground with real spite so that they would thus increase his pain. Then they lifted the cross

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Jonathan Adams up again and thrust it very violently down into the hole in which it was to stand with his heavy body.

Pedersen’s Jews never seem to miss an opportunity to humiliate, torment, injure, punish, and mutilate Jesus and his body. Throughout the expositio, the Jews are constantly referred to as cruel, wolf-like, unclean, and reckless,41 and their malevolence is also directed towards Mary. John tries to shield Mary and turns on her persecutors, when she apparently collapses and dies after seeing Longinus pierce her son’s side: Saa styrte Iomfru Maria moren død vdi Sancte Marie magdalene hender da bleff Sancte Hanss suarlige fortørned aff stor sorg oc sagde till dem O i alder slemmiste menniske som gøre denne store wmilhed mod dette døde legeme i haffue slaget hannem i hiell nw ville i myrde hanss wskyldige moder met42 Afterwards, the Virgin Mother Mary fell down dead in St Mary Magdalene’s hands. Then St John became extremely angry with great sorrow and said to them, ‘O you most wicked people who have done this cruel thing to this dead body! You have killed Him, and now you wish to murder His innocent mother as well!’ When the Jews leave Golgotha, Mary miraculously recovers ‘ligerwiss som hun hagde op vognet aff en søffn [as if she had awoken from sleeping]’.43 The depiction of Mary and her intimate and pervasive role in Christ’s Passion and sacrifice is a typical literary and devotional model of the cult of the Virgin. The sermon contains common elements of a Good Friday sermon, such as the blood curse (and the subsequent curse of Jewish male menstruation),44 details of the pain during the Crucifixion,45 and the piercing of Jesus’ side by Longinus. We also find the motif of ‘Jew spittle’ covering Jesus’ face several times.46 Furthermore, it is claimed that the Jews’ power to corrupt lies in their money, which is why Pilate did not want to upset them: Der pilatus engelediss frelse kwnde ihesum fra iøderne met forneffnde ord Da sagde han dem til haanhed Skal ieg korss feste ether konge Tertus Responderunt pontifices Bisperne suarede hannem oc sagde Uii haffue ingen konge vden keyseren Thi fryctede pilatus at de skulde kert hannem for keyseren om han icke ville døme hannem han vilde oc haffue venskaff met iøderne oc mente at de skulde giffue hannem store penninge fordi tode han sine hender oc sagde Ieg er wskyldig aff denne retuise mandz blod Iøderne robede Hanss blod skal komme offuer oss oc vaare børn47 When Pilate was unable to secure Jesus’ release from the Jews with the aforementioned words, he said to them mockingly, ‘Shall I crucify your

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king?’ The bishops answered him and said, ‘We do not have a king, but an emperor!’ [John 19. 15] So Pilate grew afraid that they would charge him before the emperor, if he did not judge Jesus. He also wanted to gain the Jews’ friendship and thought that they would give him much money. For this reason, he washed his hands and said, ‘I am innocent of this righteous man’s blood!’ The Jews shouted, ‘His blood shall be upon us and our children!’ [Matthew 27. 25] In spite of the appalling picture of the Jews painted by Pedersen, he does quote Jesus’ call to forgive his murderers, and he makes no actual call for revenge against the Jews.48 As has already been noted, Pedersen sees an eschatological necessity in the continued existence of the Jews, as their ultimate conversion to Christianity plays a pivotal role in salvation history and the final cataclysm of destruction and redemption. Following their becoming Christians, the events of the End will take place. His sermons thus clearly demonstrate the contradicting Christian attitude towards the Jews: On the one hand, Judaism was the path to damnation, and on the other, the conversion and salvation of the Jews in the final days were anticipated and necessary. COPENHAGEN, GKS 1390, 4° The next sermon for consideration is taken from Copenhagen, The Royal Library, GkS 1390, 4°.49 Dating from the first half of the fifteenth century,50 the manuscript contains the winter part of a postil and a few shorter religious texts. It probably originates from the Birgittine monastery in Maribo, where it was translated from a Swedish original.51 The sermon for Good Friday takes its thema (in Danish) from Mark 10. 35–39: Sanctus marchus ewangelistæ sigher at sancte jacobus ok sancta johannes apostoli sagdhe til war herræ jhesum O mærstæræ giff os at wj skulæ sitiæ ij thinæ æres righe een a thinæ høghræ hand ok anner a thinæ winstræ hand Jhesus swarædhæ them formughen ij at drikke \aff/ thet storæ karet som jak skal dry˙kkæ thet ær at waræ my˙næ kompanæ ok fylgheræ ij storæ ok mangfaldæ beske pine\r/ som jak skal thola ok beskelighe drykkæ The sagdhe wj formughe thet Jhesus swarædhæ them sannelighe skulæ ij drikkæ mit pinæ kar52 St Mark the Evangelist says that the apostles, St James and St John, said to our Lord Jesus, ‘O Master! If only we may sit in your kingdom of honour, one of us at your right hand, the other at your left hand.’ Jesus answered them, ‘Can you drink of the great cup that I shall drink? That is that my companions and followers will be in great and much bitter

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The introduction goes on to describe how Jesus’ followers did indeed drink from a bitter cup and were flogged, beaten, beheaded, starved, imprisoned, crucified, flayed, and so on.53 The choice of thema is targeted towards a specific audience—namely, ‘ærlighe gildbrødhræ [honourable guildsmen]’. These guilds are named as those dedicated to the Holy Cross, our Lady, St Katerina, and St Margareta.54 We have here a specific audience for the sermon, but it has not been possible to identify or locate these guilds in either Denmark or Sweden using other sources. The thema is followed by an introductio that presents the subject of the sermon: drinking to excess: Thænken thy ij mænniskæ om ij hafwæ astundæn ij edher gilde til at tholæ thelik thyng som the tholde ælle thelik ordh ok gerningæ som the haffdhe ok haffuen ij swa tha mughe ij giffuæ them naffn aff hælghe mæn Ok haffue ij æy swa tha ær edhræ samquæmdh hælder at kallæ drankaræ gilde ok ølfyllæ æn hælghe mænnæ gilde ælle siælæ røkt fforthy mædhen ther idhnæs meghet meer buksins fylle æn gutz hedher ok siælænnæ gagn55 So think, you people, whether you have the aspiration in your guild to withstand such things as these holy men withstood, or such words and deeds as they had! And if you have, then you may call yourselves holy men. And if you have not, then your association should be more fittingly called a guild for drunkards and a den for drinking rather than a guild for holy men or for tending of souls, because you are pursuing the filling of your stomachs rather than the praising of God or the benefitting of your souls. The sermon is structured around the twelve large cups of bitterness from which Jesus drank during his final hours. The cups are, of course, metaphors. The first cup, for example, reminds us that the man who drank of the vessel of pain was none other than the Son of God himself; the second cup symbolizes the rejection he suffered on earth; the third, the pain he suffered on the Cross, and so on. Each cup is further divided into three smaller cups which detail aspects of the suffering he endured. It is noteworthy from a structural point of view that there are no biblical quotations to introduce any of the twelve cups or their smaller subdivisions. Although biblical quotations, largely from the Old Testament, are occasionally used to support various propositions, quotations from St Birgitta of Sweden (1301–73)56 or, somewhat less frequently, St Bernard (1090–1153) are much more common. Birgitta’s quotations act as eyewitness accounts of the Passion as the interlocutors who speak to her in the revelations cited in the sermon are none other than Jesus or the Virgin Mary, the ultimate voices of authority. So, for

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example, Jesus himself tells us that ‘the Jews caused me three kinds of pain in my torment: firstly, the wood with which I was crucified and scourged and crowned; secondly, the iron with which they pierced my hands and feet; thirdly, the drink of gall which they gave me to drink’,57 and Mary provides the audience with a graphic eyewitness account of her son’s torments: myn søns vwener the flængde hans ligheme som ren war aff hwæriæ synd ok smittæ swa grymmelighe at jak sa hans ligheme slaghen ok flængder alt til reffuen swa at hans reeff syntes bar ok æn thet som beskeræ war at see nar giislærnæ igendroghes tha ristædhes hans køt ok slitnædhe aff them swasom jordh for ardh58 My son’s enemies scourged his body, which was pure of every sin and defilement, so cruelly that I saw his body beaten and flayed right down to his ribs, so that his rib-bones could be plainly seen, and what was even more bitter to see, when the whips were pulled back, his flesh was cut and torn to pieces like the earth [is torn] by a plough. At the beginning of the sermon many of the indignities and sufferings heaped onto Jesus are expressed in the passive. Thus, he was flogged, beaten, and spat at without any agents being identified. But halfway through, the scene having been set, the Jews make their entrance and are named as the perpetrators of the crimes against Jesus. With the exception of a brief appearance by Pilate, no Romans are ever mentioned. The Jews condemned him to death not in childish haste but out of calculated and complete evil.59 A great crowd of Jews witnessed the Passion, they beat, spat at, and mocked Jesus,60 and it is they who crucified him during Passover.61 After his being killed, they blamed him for his own death and called him a liar.62 The usual motifs are found of the cruel, violent Jew, and there are no fewer than eleven references to Jews spitting into Jesus’ face. Just as in Christiern Pedersen’s Good Friday sermon, these images are being used in a sort of typological fashion as prefigurations of contemporary Christians who similarly torment, mock, and crucify their God through their impiety, sin, and disregard for Christian ideals. Thus, for example, Thridiæ war at the ijgengulde hannem ont for got thy at han haffdhe wtualt jødhænæ til meere wærdughet æn noghet annet folk han gaff them bæstæ land ij allæ werldennæ war han wiste them sin wiliæ medh prophetenæ ok han frælstæ them afftæ aff liiffs wadhæ han waldæ sik een jomfrw til modher aff theræ slækt han predigedhe ok giordhe jærteknæ for them. Æn for thessæ godhgerningæ ok mangæ andræ tha wilde the ængeledh latæ hannem leffuæ æn the beddes aff domæren tha han wilde gefue jhesus løs æn the bedhdes een mandræpæræ till liff ok jhesum til korsins dødh Swa gøræ nu mangæ ledhæ ok forbannædhæ synder mot guth hwilke han gør mangfalde godhgerningæ medh

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Jonathan Adams syndughæ mænniskæ Som sancta paulus sigher at the annen tidh korsfæstæ gutz søn ok haldæ hannem for gab ok hon Ok nu mædhen then som forwanz medh twa æller thre witnæ at haffuæ brutit moysi logh han skule dø wden al miskund O hwre meghet hardhæræ pinæ the forskulde som forsma gutz søn medh thet at the syndæ mot hans budhordh Ok thy kærer guth rætwislighe medh propheten offwer syndughe mænniskæ ok sigher hwat æy ijgengældz ont for got thy at the groffwæ graff for myn siæl swiglighe ok lønlighe ok sattæ for mech manga dødz forsat63 The third point is that they repaid his good with evil. He had chosen the Jews for greater worth than any other people. He gave them the best land in the whole world where he showed them his will through the prophets and he often saved them from life’s difficulties. He chose a virgin from their stock to be his mother. He preached and performed miracles for them. And in return for these and many other good deeds, they would not let him live under any circumstances, but rather, when the judge wanted to release him, they asked for a murderer to be spared instead, and Jesus to be crucified. So too now do many evil and cursed people, for whom God performs many good deeds, commit sins against him. As St Paul says, they crucify God’s son for a second time and insult and mock him. And just as he once could be condemned by two or three witnesses for having broken Moses’ Law and had to die without mercy, so also now. Oh how much greater torment they cause him, those who disdain God’s son by sinning against his commandments. And so through the prophets, God righteously condemns sinful people and says that those who paid for good with bad, they deceitfully and secretly dug a grave for his soul and placed before him many deadly traps.

This very direct linking between the Jews’ evil deeds and contemporary Christians’ sinfulness is also typical of Birgittine literature and St Birgitta’s Revelations. GkS 1390, 4° most probably originates in the Birgittine milieu in Maribo and contains clear influence from the saint’s preoccupation with the moral decline she saw around her and from her Revelations, which are copiously cited. The Revelations were standard quotation material in Birgittine sermons. In Birgitta’s Revelations, Jews are never presented as the contemporary stereotypes that we sometimes meet in other fourteenthcentury European works (e.g., as moneylenders, host desecrators, childkillers, well-poisoners, and so on), but they tend to be used in their biblical setting to draw parallels between their alleged wicked behaviour and that of Birgitta’s contemporary coreligionists who abuse Jesus by neglecting their faith.64 Birgitta’s writings adopt the topos of the Christ-killing Jew, and although not setting out to demonize contemporary Jews further,65 she does use Jews in their Christian mythological role as Christ killers to

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illustrate aspects of contemporary Christians’ behaviour and to call them to a religious life.66 However, Birgitta’s use of the image of the Jew solely as a tool to castigate fellow Christians, as opposed to attacking the Jews per se, does not of course in any way mean she hated Jews any less (she does in fact more than once link the Jews with the Devil).67 For Birgitta’s audience, being placed in the same category as the Jews, or being described as worse than a Jew, would presumably have been enough to shame any self-respecting Christian into a life of proper devotion and piety.68 ‘The Jew’ was manifestly an established metaphorical symbol of evil for Birgitta’s audience, and could be used as a sort of shorthand for un-Christian and immoral behaviour. UPPSALA, C 56 Our final sermon is taken from Uppsala C 56, written about 1450.69 In total, the manuscript contains nearly a hundred Danish sermons in 369 folios. The sermon under consideration here is for the Fifth Sunday in Lent, also called Passion Sunday, and begins with a thema in Latin: ‘Quis ex vobis arguet me de peccato? [Which of you convinceth me of sin?; John 8. 46]’; the pericope is then given in full in the vernacular (John 8. 46–59). The reading is the story of a confrontation in the Temple grounds between the Jews, described by John as the children of the Devil (in John 8. 44), and Jesus. Here, Jesus makes a number of claims about himself (concerning his eternality and divinity) and he instructs the Jews to believe in him and calls those worshipping at the Temple liars. In turn, the Jews accuse him of being a demon-possessed fraudster. The scene is highly charged and ends with Jesus slipping away before being stoned by the enraged Jews. According to the sermon, this Temple episode is the cause of the grievance for which the Jews crucified Jesus on Good Friday: Thenne daghen heter kære søndagh oc haffuer nampnit fongit aff the kæromalin oc delo ther judhane hioldo medh warum herra j dagh som læstin aff sigher til thes the folfulgdo thet medh gerningana medh dødzsins pino wm langafredagh70 This day is called Care [‘sorrow, grief’] Sunday and takes its name from the arguments and disagreements, that the Jews had with our Lord today, about which Scripture says they [the Jews] brought these deeds to completion on Good Friday with the pain of death. In the expositio, the preacher talks at some length about Jewish evilness, contrasting their wickedness with the patience of Jesus Christ. The sermon uses the figure of the deicide Jew as a scare tactic to cajole Christians towards a better way of living:

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Jonathan Adams Framdelis j læstinne skulom wj mærkia wars herra jhesu christi tholomot oc judhane jldzsko oc dyeffwlsleka wredhe som sigx aff ytarst j læstinne at the toko stena oc wildo stena honum j hææl Wi læsom at judhanne waro folhoxe twem sinnom at dræpa war herra jhesum christum før æn the honum korsfæsto Som først war tha the leddo honum oppa een ganzskan høghan bærgx klint oc wildo honum ther skiuta wt fore oc honum dræpa/ tha war han osynleken fore them oc gik ater til ryggia mit gønum theras hopp Swa at the j thy sinneno kundo honum enkte skadha Medh thesse forbannadha judhana maa forstandas syndogha menniskior the som ekke haffua stadugha troo til gudz eller hedhra honum medh sina godhgerninga Som propheten salemon sigher aff/ Troon ær dødh fore gudh wtan godhgerningana følgha trona Mædh thenna bergh klinten maa forstandas høghfærdogha menniskio hierta som hælder skiuta war herra fran sik medh hoghmod oc forbolinhet æn the wilia honum nær sik behalda medh ødhmiukt oc tholamot/ oc for thy liknas the widher høgh bærgh Som propheten dauid sigher Høgh bergh æro hiortomin tilflyningh/ oc bærghhællor jghelkattana/ Medh hiortenom som ær eet høghfærdoght diwr oc dierfft aff sik wndirstas dyeffwlin som sina wijst oc wmgængilsse haffuer altidh j høgfærdogx manz hierta/ oc widher jghelkattin som hwas ær aff sik oc stingx liknas dyeffwlssins stingande jnskiutilsser som menniskionne samwit rørir til wærldhinna bælde oc framhop til nya osidher j osidhoghan oc olofflikan klædhabonadh oc smælekhet widher sin jeffncristin Medh them som swa gøra haffuer war herra enga samwaru wtan hælder flyr bort fran them jo længer tha the bidhia til honum j thøleke akt71 Furthermore in the reading, we should note the patience of our Lord Jesus Christ and the evil and devilish anger of the Jews, about which it says in the end of the reading that they picked up stones and wanted to stone him to death. We read that the Jews fully intended to kill our Lord Jesus Christ two times before they crucified him. The first time was when they led him onto an extremely high cliff top and wanted to push him off and kill him. Then he vanished in front of them and walked back straight through the middle of the gathered crowd. So that time they were unable to do him any harm. What is meant by these cursed Jews is sinful people, those who do not firmly believe in God and praise him with good deeds. As the prophet Solomon says about this, ‘Faith is dead to God unless good deeds accompany faith.’ [James 2. 20] What is meant by this mountain cliff is the hearts of arrogant people who would rather push our Lord away with arrogance and haughtiness than keep him close with humility and patience; for this reason, they are also like the high mountain. As the prophet David says, ‘High mountains are the place to which deer flee, and flat rocks are the fleeing-place for hedgehogs.’ [Psalms 104. 18] What is meant by these deer, which are arrogant and reckless animals, is the Devil who

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always has his abode and company in the hearts of arrogant men. And what is meant by the hedgehogs, which are sharp animals that prick, is the Devil’s pricking impulses that nudge people’s conscience towards worldly arrogance and the hope of success in new abuses comprising immoral and unlawful clothing and insults towards their fellow Christians. Our Lord is not with people who behave like this, but he prefers to flee from them so much further when they pray to him with such purpose. Of utmost importance in this expositio is the Jews’ wickedness, but as in the two previous sermons we have reviewed, the Jews and their wicked behaviour are used as metaphors to represent unacceptable negative qualities found among some of the members of the Christian community. They are portrayed as the very essence of evil and employed as a gauge of godliness and as a means of comparison, although the reason for their excessive cruelty is not explained in the sermon—presumably, it could be taken for granted that the audience would be all too familiar with Jewish perniciousness. Here the cursed Jews represent sinful Christians, and the high cliff, where the Jews intended to murder Jesus, represents the hearts of arrogant men and women in which the Devil is at work. In other words, sinful Christians provide the means by which the enemies of God can do away with him; just as the Jews did away with him at the Crucifixion. Later in the expositio, we read that the Jews, who drove Jesus ‘out of the Temple with stones’, are to be understood as ‘bad people who for the sake of God have taken the Church’s blessings upon themselves and guard them poorly and keep them without consistency and virtue’.72 The sermon ends by discussing two of these blessings (priesthood and marriage) and includes a miracle involving the devil, a woman, a priest, a magician, and a bishop. The miracle’s moral lesson provides the summary and concluding doxology for the sermon: By atoning for their sins and living virtuously, the audience will become worthy of receiving God’s reward in heaven. CONCLUSION That the Jews of the New Testament were as much of interest for Christians in Denmark as they were for those in Germany or Italy is not particularly surprising. But the continued existence of the Jews and the problem this posed for the self-identification and self-definition of the Church as the New Israel are not really dealt with in extant Old Danish texts, despite its being a universal, rather than just a local, concern for the Church. With the exception of Pedersen’s eschatological use of the Jews based on St Augustine, contemporary Jews are not mentioned in the extant sermon material at all. The very negative view of Jews in these sermons would have been reinforced through other media, such as religious drama,73 but unfortunately

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no such works survive from the Danish Middle Ages. There are, however, many medieval wall-paintings. Although I disagree with Haastrup’s argument that these church wall-paintings provide evidence for the presence of Jews in Denmark, they are certainly a valuable source for understanding attitudes towards Jews in medieval Denmark. The figures were unmistakeably Jewish: crooked nose, long hair, bearded (often gathered in two points), depicted in profile with a gaping mouth and wearing a Jew’s hat. Painters made use of a visual code that enabled the viewers to identify these figures unequivocally as Jews. Furthermore, they can be understood as functioning both separately from and in connection with sermons. Whenever ‘executioners’, ‘money-lenders’, or ‘Devil’s spawn’ were mentioned in church, even if the word ‘Jews’ was not uttered, the audience, standing in a space where Christ’s killers, usurers, and Satan’s companions were depicted on the walls around them as Jews, would have made the connection instantly. This association between Jews and ‘anti-Christians’ would then have been taken outside of the church walls. It seems that medieval antisemitism in Denmark was just as pervasive, graphic, and (often) unacknowledged as Anthony Bale claims was the case in medieval England.74 The general consciousness of Danes had become saturated with images and depictions of Jews with grotesque features mocking Jesus at the Passion, Jews hammering Jesus to the Cross, Jews scourging Jesus, and even Jews in the role of Longinus piercing the side of Jesus with a spear in various church paintings (see Figures 4.1 and 4.2). The blind, obstinate, cruel denier of Christ was the only Jew there was for medieval Danes, and evil was the natural state of the Jew. The sermons, prepared for a society with no Jewish presence, demonstrate how culture and ‘literary’ production, as opposed to economics, politics, or mob violence, are fundamental to the generation of antisemitism, and textual, visual, and oral cultures are the means by which this hatred is mediated.75 What strikes the modern-day reader of these three sermon manuscripts is the consistent use of the Jew as the embodiment of evil, and one cannot help but be appalled by the (fictitious) behaviour and actions described. But this image is suddenly turned onto the audience in an act of Verfremdung or alienation. The members of the audience are unexpectedly challenged with having the same failings and inclinations as the Jews in the sermons. They can no longer have the illusion of being unseen spectators but are forced into a critical, analytical frame of mind that serves to disabuse them from the notion that the sermon, and more specifically the Passion story contained therein, is merely an inviolable self-contained narrative. They too are the crucifiers, the enemies of God, and the embodiment of evil. Christian folk could apparently agree on the fact that the Jews were immoral monsters, but what if these same folk were in fact behaving in ways comparable to these monsters? The preachers are using these sermons to hold a mirror up to their audiences, and the Jews have become their straw men, referents for immorality, and a shorthand for all that is ungodly. The audience can understand the moral and spiritual failings and problems of their

Figure 4.1 Jews crucify Jesus; Råsted Church, Jutland (c. 1200). Photograph by author.

Figure 4.2 Longinus is painted as a Jew in oriental fashion with a beard and dressed in a kaftan; Jetsmark Church, northern Jutland (1474). Photograph by Niels Clemmensen.

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own present through this constructed picture of the past. The Jews in these sermons offered the Christians an opportunity to reflect upon their lives and to prove their steadfastness to their own faith. Listening to the sermons, perhaps looking around at the paintings, carvings, and stained glass that adorned the church, the audience was being forced to accept the possibility that through their sin they too were the attackers, not the defenders, of Christ. As the writers of these medieval Danish sermons were primarily concerned with impiety and sin, they were not interested in the Jews of their contemporary world, but only in the ‘fantastical’ Jews of the New Testament, whom they readily employed as a lesson from the past, an ugly stick with which to beat their audience into moral obedience. NOTES 1. In Johannes Pfefferkorn’s Ich heyss eyn buchlijn der iuden beicht (Cologne, 1508), an expulsion of the Jews from Denmark sometime prior to the book’s publication is mentioned at the end of chapter 5 (fol. d1v). However, neither Denmark nor an expulsion of the Jews is mentioned in the Latin version of the book (Libellus de Judaica confessione, also published in 1508 shortly after the German edition), nor in Poul Ræff’s Danish translation of 1516 (Nouiter in lucem data. Iudeorum secreta). Martin Schwarz Lausten (Kirke og synagoge: Holdninger i den danske kirke til jødedom og jøder i middelalderen, reformationstiden og den lutherske ortodoksi [ca. 1100–ca. 1700], Kirkehistoriske studier 3: 1 [Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag, 1992, reprinted in 2002], pp. 110–11), and Hans-Martin Kirn (pers. comm. cited in Kirke og synagoge, p. 111 n. 5) both feel that Pfefferkorn’s reference to an expulsion is not evidence for the existence of Jews in Denmark, but should rather be seen as an expression of the judaeophobic sentiment prevalent at the time. It could, in my opinion, just as well be a straightforward mistake on the part of the author that was corrected in subsequent editions. 2. On the Jews in medieval Normandy, see Norman Golb, The Jews in Medieval Normandy: A Social and Intellectual History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); on Normannic Jews and Vikings, see p. 18 with note. Denmark was, of course, part of Catholic Europe in the Middle Ages, so Jews were discussed and covered by legislation even at that time (Lausten, Kirke og synagoge, p. 12 n. 3), but the first Jew registered in Denmark whom we know of is Jochim Jøde in 1592 in Helsingør (Landsarkivet for Sjælland, Helsingør byfogedarkiv, Tingbog XIII, fol. 122b: ‘18 Decembris Anno etc. (1592) Thesse epterschreffne Mendt bevillgis Borgerskab till første tingh Jochim Jøde Niels Jensen Vrtegaardzmand Schwend Knudtzen Jens Jespersen Abraham Jensen [18 December 1592: These following men have been awarded the status of burgher at the first council meeting: Jochim the Jew, Niels Jensen Urtegårdsmand, Svend Knudsen, Jens Jespersen, Abraham Jensen]’). See Karsten Christensen, ‘Jochim Jøde i Helsingør i 1592’, in Dansk Jødisk Historie 24 (1987), 11–16. There may, however, have been Jews living in Denmark some years before this date who arrived under false Christian names, as Per B. Katz speculates in ‘De første jøder i Danmark’, in Judiskt liv i Norden, ed. by Gunnar Broberg, Harald Ringblom, and Matthias Tydén, Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis: Studia Multiethnica Upsaliensia 6 (Uppsala: Uppsala Universitet, 1988), pp. 71–97 (p. 96).

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3. See Lausten, Kirke og synagoge, pp. 132–56, and Axel Bolvig’s database of Danish church wall-paintings at [accessed 30 January 2014]. 4. Ulla Haastrup, ‘Jødefremstillinger i dansk middelalderkunst’, in Danish Jewish Art: Jews in Danish Art, ed. by Mirjam Gelfer-Jørgensen (Copenhagen: Society for the Publication of Danish Cultural Monuments, 1999), pp. 111–67, and Ulla Haastrup, ‘Representations of Jews in Medieval Danish Art—Can Images Be Used as Source Material on Their Own?’, in History and Images: Towards a New Iconology, ed. by Axel Bolvig and Phillip Lindley, Medieval Texts and Cultures of Northern Europe, 5 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2003), pp. 341–56. 5. See, for example, Morten Thing, ‘Jøden og orientaleren’, in Kvinder, Køn & Forskning, 9: 3 (2000), 21–38 (p. 34). Furthermore, we know that some of the painters were German, not Danish. 6. Danmarks gamle Personnavne. II: Tilnavne, ed. by Gunnar Knudsen, Marius Kristensen, and Rikard Hornby (Copenhagen: Gad, 1949–64), col. 524, s.v. ‘Iøthe’. 7. Tyge Alexander Becker and William Christensen, De ældste Archivregistraturer, 5 vols (Copenhagen: Det Kongelige Danske Selskab for Fædrelandets Historie og Sprog, 1854–1910), I (1854), 164. 8. Scriptores Rerum Danicarum Medii Ævi, ed. by Jacobus Langebek, 9 vols (Copenhagen: Andr. Hart. Godiche, 1772–1878), VII (1792), 80. 9. Frits Uldall, Danmarks middelalderlige kirkeklokker, 2nd edn (Højberg: Hikuin, 1982), pp. 180–84. 10. Repertorium Diplomaticum Regni Danici Mediævalis: 1. Række, ed. by Kristian Erslev and others, 4 vols (Copenhagen: Gad, 1894–1912), III (1899–1906), 346–47 (rep. no. 6177). 11. Andrew and Matthew are, after all, typically Christian names. 12. The citation-slip collection of the Dictionary of Old Danish (available at [accessed 30 January 2014]) lists a number of spelling variants for jute [‘Jutlander’] when used in combination with a personal name: ‘Iude’, ‘Iudæ’, ‘Iutæ’, ‘Ivdhe’, ‘Iwde’, ‘Iwdhe’, ‘Iwdhæ’, ‘Iydhe’, ‘Jude’, ‘Jüde’, ‘Jwde’, ‘Jwte’, ‘Jwthæ’, ‘Jyde’, ‘Yde’, ‘Ytti’. Forms with or are, however, not recorded here. Another possibility is a spelling variant of jætte [‘giant’], a word which does occur with both and — for example, ‘Jwl Jøte [Jul the Giant]’ (Langeland, 25 October 1459; Danmarks Gamle Personnavne II, col. 524); ‘Johannem Jotæn [John the Giant]’ (9 March 1311; Danmarks Gamle Personnavne II, col. 511); note also the following examples with taken from the Danish chronicle Rydårbogen: ‘en iøtæ af Swerige [a giant from Sweden]’ (Copenhagen, The Royal Library, E don. var 3, 8°, fol. 4v; Gammeldanske krøniker, ed. by Marcus Lorenzen [Copenhagen: S. L. Møller, 1887–1913], p. 148 l. 4); ‘en iøten j Sweriki [a giant in Sweden]’ (Stockholm, The Royal Library, Holm. K 4, fol. 1v; Lorenzen, Gammeldanske krøniker, p. 138 l. 14); and ‘een iødæ, heth Canis [a giant called Canis]’ (Holm. K 4, fol. 4r; Lorenzen, Gammeldanske krøniker, p. 146 l. 18). 13. ‘Befindis nogen Iøde her i Danmarck/ uden Geleits-Breff/ hand hafver der med forbrut et tusinde Rix daler [If a Jew is found here in Denmark without an entry permit, he should be fined a penalty of 1000 rigsdaler]’. Christen Ostersen Weylle, Tractat offver alle de Faldsmaal oc Bøder som findis udi alle voris (her udi Glossario allegerede) Lower oc Statuter (Copenhagen: Melchior Martzan, 1652), p. 49. 14. The street name ‘Jødestrædhe’ [Jew Street] in Nyborg, Fyn, is mentioned in a source from 1537, but as with the earlier ‘Jew’ personal names it is difficult to assess its relevance and meaning. Cf. Haastrup, ‘Jødefremstillinger i dansk middelalderkunst’, p. 160 n. 130, and ‘Representations of Jews in Medieval

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15.

16. 17. 18.

19.

20.

21. 22.

23.

24. 25.

26.

Jonathan Adams Danish Art’, p. 355. Crucially, there are no archaeological finds of Jewish artefacts in Nyborg from the period. See Jonathan Adams, ‘Grumme løver og menstruerende mænd’, Rambam: Tidsskrift for jødisk kultur og forskning, 21 (2012), 78–93, and Jonathan Adams, Lessons in Contempt: Poul Ræff’s Translation and Publication in 1516 of Johannes Pfefferkorn’s The Confession of the Jews, UniversitetsJubilæets danske Samfund, 581 (Odense: University Press of Southern Denmark, 2013), pp. 5–86. Joshua Trachtenberg, The Devil and the Jews: The Medieval Conception of the Jew and Its Relation to Modern Anti-Semitism, rev. edn (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1993), pp. 12–14. Anne Riising, Danmarks middelalderlige Prædiken (Copenhagen: Gad, 1969), pp. 21–22. Christiern Pedersen’s Book of Miracle Sermons is in fact not a handwritten manuscript, but a post-incunable that the author printed in Paris in 1515, and it is one of the earliest printed books in Danish. Note also that the Danish Middle Ages are traditionally reckoned as lasting until the Reformation in 1536—a rather late date when compared with southern Europe. For example, in AM 76, 8°, David and Abraham are mentioned over half a dozen times each, and Moses appears once (fol. 130v, l. 17). See A Danish Teacher’s Manual of the Mid-Fifteenth Century: Codex AM 76, 8°, ed. by Sigurd Kroon and others, Skrifter utgivna av Vetenskapssocieteten i Lund, 85, 2 vols (Lund: Lund University Press, 1993–2008), I (1993), 510–69. In Cod. Vind. 13013, we find Abraham (fols 54ra, ll. 33, 36, and 54rb, l. 28), Sarah (fol. 54ra, l. 33), Melchizedek (fol. 54rb, ll. 32, 36), Malachi (fol. 54va, ll. 1, 29), and David (fols 56vb, l. 23, and 57ra, l. 39). See Jonathan Adams, ‘Tre gammeldanske prædikener—et nyt tilskud til den gammeldanske homiletiske litteratur’, in Danske Studier, 99 (2004), 5–41. Published in Christiern Pedersens danske Skrifter, ed. by Carl Joakim Brandt and Thomas Fenger, 5 vols (Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 1850–56), I–II. A facsimile edition can also be found on the homepage of the Royal Library in Copenhagen: [accessed 30 January 2014]. It is, for example, mentioned in Ludvig Holberg’s comic-heroic poem Peder Paars (1719–20). On the life of Pedersen, see Carl Joakim Brandt, Om Lunde-Kanniken Christiern Pedersen og hans Skrifter (Copenhagen: Gad, 1882), and Jens Anker Jørgensen, Humanisten Christiern Pedersen: En præsentation (Copenhagen: Reitzel, 2007). Riising, Danmarks middelalderlige Prædiken, p. 333: ‘I øvrigt forekommer der ikke i prædikerne noget egentligt jødehad, heller ikke i passionsprædikerne [On the whole, there is no actual hatred towards Jews in the sermons, nor in the Passion sermons]’. On Jews in Danish Passion tales, see Jonathan Adams, ‘Kristi mordere: Jøder i danske passionsberetninger fra middelalderen’, Danske Studier, 108 (2013), 25–47. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 233: ‘Det wor Ath iøderne anamme skulle den naade de hagde fortient i det de trode paa profeterniss ord oc spaa dom at Cristus komme skulle Oc de leffuede effter den low som Moyses dem lærde [It was that the Jews were to receive the mercy that they had earned by believing in the prophets’ words and prophecies that Christ would come, and they lived in accordance with the law that Moses had taught them]’. Jesus is, for example, referred to as ‘iøde konge [King of the Jews]’. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 144. The Jews, rather than the pagans, were chosen by God because the pagans were initially incapable of comprehending

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27.

28.

29.

30.

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Christian learning and the means of salvation, as they ‘tiene aff guder oc bede til stock oc stene och dywr som døde ere [worship idols and pray to sticks and stones and animals that are dead]’. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 285. However, it is the Jews who rejected Jesus and for which they are damned for eternity: ‘Men Iøderne som kaldiss gudz eget folk for vor herre serdeliss vdsent aff gud fader at frelse dem De skulle kastiss i heluediss mørk [But the Jews, who are called God’s own people, because our Lord was sent especially by God the Father to save them, they are to be thrown into the darkness of hell]’. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 193. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 233: ‘Saa skulle de siste bliffue de første Det wor hedningene som waare forsmaade aff iøderne som serdeliss vdualde waare først aff gwd De bleffue siden forsmaade aff hannem for deriss vantro skyld. De ere mange som kallede ere Det er til den hellighe tro Men faa ere vdualde Der met vnderstondiss at gandske faa aff iøderne trode paa wor herre och mange aff dem som trode kaste troen igen meth det første [So the last should be the first (Matthew 20. 16). It was the pagans who were rejected by the Jews who had been specially chosen first by God. They (the Jews) were subsequently rejected by him on account of their unbelief. There are many who are called. That is to the Holy Faith. But few are chosen (Matthew 22. 14). By this we understand that rather few of the Jews believed in our Lord and many of them who did believe soon dropped the faith again]’. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 150: ‘oc iøderne som vaare vnderuissde oc lerde aff Profeterne oc scrifften de forsmaade at kende hannem thii ere de forhaanede oc forsmaade aff alle for deriss vantro [and the Jews, who had been instructed and taught by the prophets and scripture, refused to recognize him, and so they are humiliated and rejected by all for their unbelief]’. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 243: ‘Sompt falt blant tornene Det vor blant de menniske som forblindede waare aff gerighed oc denne verdenss forfengelighed och inthet skøtte vden ath samble rigdom till hobe Her met merckiss besynderlige iøderne som waare offuer maade gerige i det gamble testamente oc ære en nw saa paa denne tiid Thii brwge dhe obenbarlige oger [Some fell among the thorns (Matthew 13. 7), that is among those people who were blinded by greed and this world’s vanity and did not occupy themselves with anything but collecting riches. By this is meant the Jews in particular who were exceedingly greedy in the Old Testament and who still are so now at this time. That is why they blatantly pursue usury]’; Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, II (1851), 110: ‘om han fonger noget gotz aff nogen som før haffuer fonget det vretferdelige Det skeer naar nogen tager gaffuer aff iøder eller obenbare aager karle Saadanne gaffuer bør huer at giffue fattige folk [if he receives some goods from someone who has obtained them by unjust means. This happens when someone takes gifts from Jews or blatant usurers. Each man should give such gifts to the poor]’); Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, II (1851), 186 (on Matthew 21. 13): ‘Han vd dreff dem som solde oc køpte i templen Thii at presterne i templen hagde skicked iii kramboder i vobn hwseth for deriss gerighedz skyld ath huilken som icke hagde det han skulde offre ath han der skulde fonge det falt [He drove out those people who were selling and buying in the Temple, as the Temple priests on account of their greed had set up three market stalls in the porch, so that whoever did not have what he needed to sacrifice would bargain for it there]’. Anna Sapir Abulafia, Christian-Jewish Relations 1000–1300: Jews in the Service of Medieval Christendom, The Medieval World (Harlow: Pearson, 2011), pp. 4–8, and Paula Fredriksen, Augustine and the Jews: A Christian Defense of Jews and Judaism, rev. edn (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010), especially p. 281.

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31. The Jews can be saved if they allow themselves to be baptized: ‘Men hwo som helst de waare Iøder eller hedninger Rig eller fattig Fribaaren eller træl Ung eller gammel Mand eller qwinde Som hannem kerlighe anammede meth en stadig tro Dem gaff han alle mact med dob oc cristendom ath bliffue alle samme gudz børn til den ewighe salighed [But whoever they might be, Jews or pagans, rich or poor, freeman or slave, young or old, man or woman, that receive him lovingly with a constant faith, he will give all of them through baptism and Christianity the power to all become God’s children for eternal salvation]’. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 62. On Christian attitudes towards the fate of the Jews, see Sara Lipton, Images of Intolerance: The Representation of Jews and Judaism in the Bible moralisée (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), pp. 112–35. 32. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, II (1851), 110. 33. Cf. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, II (1851), 172–75, and see also Lausten, Kirke og synagoge, p. 105. 34. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 345. 35. Examples from the sermon (with page references to Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I [1850]): • A great crowd: ‘en stor hob [a great mass]’, p. 341; ‘denne store skare [this great crowd]’, p. 342. • Shouting: ‘Da robede de alle [then they all shouted together], p. 345. • Cruelty: ‘vmildelige [cruelly]’, p. 342; ‘haardelige [harshly]’, pp. 342, 343. • Violence: ‘iøderness wold oc mact [the Jews’ violence and power]’, p. 344; ‘Josep aff arimathia som vor ihesu lønlige discipell for den fare han hagde for iøderne [Joseph of Arimathea was Jesus’ disciple in secret because he was afraid of the Jews]’, p. 347; ‘kom til vor herre om naten for iøderness fare skyld [he came to our Lord during the night as he was afraid of the Jews]’, p. 347. • Direction by leaders: ‘Chaiphas han gaff iøderne det raad at de skulde i hiel slaa ihesum [Caiaphas advised the Jews to kill Jesus]’, p. 342. • Obedience to the written law: ‘han skal dø effter lowen [he is to die in accordance with the law]’, p. 345. 36. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 350–51. 37. I have been unable to locate the source of this passage. However, descriptions of excessive force used by the Jews in arresting Jesus can be found in other Danish religious texts that belong to the tradition of Passion piety. Here, for example, is part of a prayer for Good Friday from the Mirror of Wisdom (Copenhagen, The Arnamagnæan Collection, AM 782, 4°, fol. 127r; dated 1500–25): Tha saa han iøderne komme til yrtegarden och ville gribe ham, Tha kyste iudas ham for synd mwnd. Item tet tall ther ham fangede, thet vor iiii hwndrede veffnde oc ii hwndret fodgangere oc xxx skÿtter oc sex tÿ som bare løckterne, oc ther vdoffwer bath cayphas ath alle the iøder som vore y iherussalem ath the skwlle baade thil fod oc hest belægge calwarie biergeth thil ath vynde ham oc bynde ham oc gribe ham som thet hagde væreth eth vskyllickt dywr. Amen Then (Jesus) saw the Jews coming to the herb garden wanting to seize him. Then Judas kissed him on the mouth. Likewise, the number of those who captured him was four hundred armed soldiers and two hundred foot-soldiers and thirty archers and sixty who carried lanterns, and in addition to these, Caiaphas asked all the Jews who were in Jerusalem to go on foot and on horseback and besiege the Calvary Mount to vanquish him and tie him up and capture him as if he were a wild beast. Amen.

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Edited and published in Karl Martin Nielsen, Middelalderens danske Bønnebøger, 5 vols (Copenhagen: Det Danske Sprog- og Litteraturselskab, 1945– 82), III (1957), 311 (prayer no. 676). 38. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 350. 39. The Jews drag Jesus to the site of the crucifixion in Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 357: ‘Iøderne [. . .] slebede hannem effter dem som en hwnd [The Jews (. . .) dragged him after them like a dog]’. 40. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 359. Whether the cross was raised before or after Jesus was fixed to it is also discussed at length in this sermon. 41. For example, ‘vmildelige [cruelly]’, Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 350, 351, 365; ‘som en wlff der fanger i lom [like a wolf that catches a lamb]’, Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 351; ‘fule [vile]’, Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 353, 356; ‘fortwilede [reckless]’, Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 354, 365. 42. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 364. 43. In most Passion texts, Mary swoons, but does not die, a tradition that started with Opusculum de passione Domini by Hrabanus Maurus (d. 856); see Rachel Fulton, From Judgment to Passion (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002), p. 211. The source for her appearing to die is Bernard of Clairvaux’s Dominica infra octavam Assumptionis Beatae Virginis Mariae sermo, which defines Mary’s inward martyrdom—Longinus’ lance does not reach Jesus’ soul (he is already dead), but pierces the soul of Mary: ‘vere tuam, o beata mater, animam gladius pertransivit [truly, O blessed mother, the sword pierced your soul]’. Sandro Sticca, Planctus Mariae in the Dramatic Tradition of the Middle Ages (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1988), p. 108. 44. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 355–56: ‘Ieg er wskyldig aff denne retuise mandz blod Iøderne robede Hanss blod skal komme offuer oss oc vaare børn Det skede oc saa aff gudz heffn Thii de finge oc haffue alle blodsot saa lenge de leffue men verden stonder Men de hagde icke trod at der skulde kommet saadan heffn der effter Saa gaff Pilatus blodig dom offuer hannem oc antworde iøderne hannem at de hannem korss feste skwlle [‘I (Pontius Pilate) am innocent of this just man’s blood.’ The Jews shouted ‘His blood shall be upon us and our children!’ God’s revenge also happened as they (the Jews) all caught and suffer the bloody flux as long as they live while the world stands. But they had not believed that such revenge would come from this. Then Pilate gave his bloody verdict over him (Jesus), and the Jews answered him that they would crucify him (Jesus)]’. On the myth of Jewish male menstruation, see Irven Resnick, ‘Medieval Roots of the Myth of Jewish Male Menses’, Harvard Theological Review, 93 (2000), 241–63; Willis Johnson, ‘The Myth of Jewish Male Menses’, Journal of Medieval History, 24 (1998), 273–95; and Bettina Bildhauer, ‘Blood, Jews, and Monsters in Medieval Culture’, in The Monstrous Middle Ages, ed. by Bettina Bildhauer and Robert Mills (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), pp. 75–96. 45. For example, Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), pp. 354, 358. 46. See Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), pp. 351, 352, and 357. On the Romans’ and Jews’ abuse of and spitting at Jesus, see John Dominic Crossan, Who Killed Jesus? Exposing the Roots of Anti-Semitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus (San Francisco: Harper, 1996), pp. 118–32. The folkloristic powers of spittle, to both bless and curse, are discussed in Fanny D. Bergen, ‘Some Saliva Charms’, Journal of American Folklore 3: 8 (1890), 51–58, and Jacques Le Goff, Time, Work and Culture in the Middle Ages (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1980), p. 252. 47. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 355.

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48. Pedersen, Danske Skrifter, I (1850), 361: ‘O gwd forlad dem som mig pine thii ath de icke vide hwad de gøre [O God, forgive those who torment me, for they know not what they do! (Luke 23. 34)]’. 49. Edited and published in Kirkeårets Söndags-Evangelier med Udlæggelse fra Advent til Langfredag, ed. by Carl Joakim Brandt (Copenhagen: Gad, 1865), pp. 148–63; and in Svenska medeltidspostillor, ed. by Gustaf E. Klemming and Bertil Ejder, Samlingar utgivna av Svenska fornskriftsällskapet, 23, 8 vols (Stockholm: Norstedt & Söner, 1879–1983), VIII (1983), 172–87 (used here for quotations). 50. On the manuscript’s dating, see Britta Olrik Frederiksen, ‘Et forsøg til datering af det gammeldanske postilhåndskrift GkS 1390 4to’, in Oppa swänzsko oc oppa dansko: Studien zum Altnordischen, ed. by Harry Perridon and Arend Quak, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik, 62 (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2006), pp. 151–206. 51. There are a number of related and parallel Swedish manuscripts: Stockholm, The Royal Library, Holm. A3 and A 27; Uppsala, University Library, C 56; Copenhagen, The Arnamagnæan Collection, AM 787, 4°. 52. Svenska medeltidspostillor, VIII (1983), 172 ll. 1–9. 53. Svenska medeltidspostillor, VIII (1983), 172 ll. 17–20: ‘Petrus æfter mangæ pinær band svlt ok myrkestowo ok drak jhesu pinæ kar korsfæster Ok paulus halshuggen ok andrias korsfæster Ok batholomeus flaghen Swa allæ andræ apostoli met mangæ handæ dødh dræpnæ laurencius ok wincencius drwkko thet stekte ok brænde [Peter, after many torments, bound, starved and placed in a dark cell, and he drank of Jesus’ cup of pain, and was crucified. And Paul beheaded, and Andrew crucified, and Bartholomew flayed. And thus also the other apostles killed in many ways. Lawrence and Vincent drank of it, roasted and burned]’. 54. Svenska medeltidspostillor, VIII (1983), 173 ll. 1–6: ‘hælghe kors gilde [. . .] war frwe gilde [. . .] sancte kæterinæ ælle sancta margæretæ gilde [guild of the Holy Cross (. . .) guild of our Lady (. . .) guild of St Katerina or St Margareta]’. 55. Svenska medeltidspostillor, VIII (1983), 173 ll. 11–17. 56. Despite the establishment of two monasteries in Denmark—Maribo (1418) and Mariager (1446)—there is no extant complete translation in Old Danish of St Birgitta’s Revelations. All we have today are twenty-seven parchment fragments from at least six different manuscripts that were found as pastedowns in bookbindings. These fragments contain the Revelations in Old Danish translated from Latin; see Jonathan Adams, ‘An Introduction to the Danish Translations of St Birgitta’s Revelations’, in The Vernacular Translations of St Birgitta of Sweden, ed. by Bridget Morris and Veronica O’Mara, The Medieval Translator, 7 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), pp. 87–105. In GkS 1390, 4°, however, we have numerous quotations from the Revelations in Old Danish that are translated from the vernacular Old Swedish tradition. There is thus a greater quantity of Old Danish Revelations material than is usually assumed, and it derives from both the Latin and the Old Swedish traditions. 57. Svenska medeltidspostillor, VIII (1983), 181 ll. 14–18: ‘jødhænæ giordhe mech threggæ handæ pinæ køn ij my˙næ pinæ fførst træt met hwilket jak war korsfæster ok flængder ok kronadher Annæn tidh jærnet met hwilke the ginom stungo my˙næ hænder ok føter Thridiæ tidh gallæns dryk hwilken the gaffuæ mech at dry˙ kke’. Cf. St Birgitta, Revelations, Book I, chapter 30: 2. 58. Svenska medeltidspostillor, VIII (1983), 174 l. 33—p. 175 l. 3; cf. St Birgitta, Revelations, Book I, chapter 10: 17. 59. Svenska medeltidspostillor, VIII (1983), 178 ll. 3–6: ‘Annær war at hans dødz røgtæræ giordhe th[et